“Just be careful and keep the safety on. You don’t want to accidentally shoot any kids,” Alex warned.
“This gun doesn’t go off by accident. Have you ever seen the 5R Milspec? It’s modeled after the M24 sniper rifle used by the Marine Corps. Beautiful weapon. Hard to get your hands on one. I could find you one if you wanted. Mine’s fitted to shoot 300s instead of the standard .308. I use it deer hunting. Unbelievable accuracy. It’s a Remington 700 on steroids,” Charlie bragged.
“Those are pretty nice weapons…but I think the Marine Corps sniper rifle is called the M40-A3. They’re all modified versions of the 700, but the Marine version is handcrafted and built in Quantico. Either way, you have a nice piece of equipment there,” said Alex, wondering how many weapons Charlie possessed.
“That’s right. The army uses the 24…hold on a second,” Charlie broke off, and Alex could hear some yelling in the background at Charlie’s house. “Linda just saw a guy dodge between the Hayes’ and Coopers’ house.”
Alex heard the floor creak inside the bedroom and turned around briefly to see Kate standing in front of the closets.
“What’s going on out there?” she whispered.
“Not now. Hold on,” he said and turned back to look through the night vision scope.
He directed the scope at the opening between the Coopers’ house and the McCarthys’, figuring that it was the closest and darkest approach to the car.
“Charlie, I’m watching the opening between the Coopers’ and McCarthys’. You keep a tight watch on the car.”
“Roger.”
Alex felt his chest tighten and his pulse quicken. Within the span of a few seconds, a thin film of moisture formed on his face.
“Got him. Coming between the Coopers’ and McCarthys’. Moving right toward the car,” he said to Charlie.
His senses were acutely focused on the scene developing through the scope, distracted only momentarily by Kate kneeling down next to him. He watched the man as he jogged to the driver’s side of the car and knelt down next to the window. The driver motioned angrily for the man to get into the car, and the man with the hat quickly crossed in front of the Volvo and entered the front passenger side door. The car’s interior lighting failed to illuminate, just as Ed observed.
“They have the interior lights turned off. Sneaky mothers,” Charlie muttered into the phone.
“Yeah. This crew worries me.”
He watched as the man with the hat pointed with his left hand in the direction of the Murrays’ house. The driver immediately pushed the man’s arm down and nodded toward Alex’s house, talking at the same time. He probably saw the light from the phone. Alex wondered if Charlie would really be willing to take them out.
“I think you’ve been made, buddy,” Charlie said.
“Yeah. My phone lit up when you called. Nice orange beacon for him. Hey, can you see the license plate?”
“Already checked it out. Maine for sure. Hold on…looks like they’re leaving.”
Alex’s right eye was blinded by a sudden green flash in his scope as the Volvo’s headlights bathed the street with light. He closed the eye and put the scope on the window sill next to his binoculars. “I’ll let you know where they go,” he said to Charlie.
“Good, because I can’t see out of my right eye,” Charlie said.
“Me either.”
The Volvo’s headlights moved toward Alex’s house. He moved to a front window and watched as the car drove slowly past his house and headed down the street toward the Perrys’. He expected the car to continue around the loop to the Murrays’ and was surprised when it turned toward the neighborhood exit.
“Huh. He’s headed back out onto Harrison Road,” Alex commented.
“Who?” Kate asked.
“Maybe he didn’t like the idea that some of the neighbors are watching him,” Charlie said.
“I don’t know. He might be driving over to Everett Road to park and walk his family through the backyards over to the Murrays’. Or he might just come back at three in the morning. Either way, I expect to have new neighbors in the morning.”
“I hope not. They look like bad news. Car’s jammed full of people, but that’s about it. I didn’t see any supplies, or anything that even looked like a bag,” Charlie said.
“Do you think it’s strange that the car had Maine plates?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe their house got destroyed, or burned. Who knows? Maybe they stole the car a bit further south. They didn’t look like Volvo station wagon types.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Well, I’ll keep an eye on the Murrays’ tonight, see if anyone shows up. I’ll give you a call if I see anything,” Charlie said.
“Right. I’ll probably be up all night watching for those yahoos, too,” Alex replied.
“If I see them running around at night again, I might make them one fewer.”
“I wish I could say that I didn’t like the sound of that…have a good night, Charlie.”
“You too, Alex.”
Alex disconnected the call and put the phone back in its receiver.
“What was going on out there?” Kate asked.
He walked over to the bed and lay down. Kate followed him and they both lay staring at the ceiling, side by side, arms hooked together.
“A Volvo station wagon parked under the light, and the driver shot the light out…”
“No,” she whispered.
“And Charlie saw a guy snooping around the Murrays’. We both saw this guy emerge from the McCarthys’ backyard and get in the car, then they left. I’m pretty sure they’re coming back for the Murrays’ house. These guys seem to know what they’re doing. Like they’ve cased houses before. I think they had a close look at the Murrays’ and weren’t fooled by the lights.”
“What makes you think they’ve cased houses before?” she asked.
Alex explained his theory about the interior car lights, the position of the vehicle and the license plates.
“I don’t know,” she said, unsure.
“The guy brazenly blasts out a street light? Trust me. These are not the kind of people we want in the neighborhood, Kate.”
He left out the likelihood that the driver had spotted him, not seeing any reason to escalate her anxiety.
“You don’t think they’re from Maine?” she asked.
“I doubt it, and I’d hate to think about what happened to the owners of that car. I hope Charlie does some hunting tonight.”
“We don’t need Charlie shooting at people in the dark. You and Ed have made some nighttime trips, and you’re lucky nobody took a shot at you.”
“Maybe. Either way, I don’t think there’s any reason for anyone to be alone on the ground floor after dark from this point forward. At least until we figure out what’s going on with these guys. Okay?”
“Sounds reasonable,” Kate said.
“I don’t want to sound paranoid, just cautious.”
“You can’t fool me. I always thought you were paranoid,” she said nuzzling closer to him.
Wrapped in Kate’s arms under a cozy pile of soft blankets made Alex momentarily forget about the men that were surely creeping about the neighborhood.
Chapter 32
Alex peered through a small gap between the windowsill and the bottom of the shades in his darkened office, scanning the block in both directions with his night vision scope. He had alternated between the window and his computer for the past three hours. So far, the computer had proven more interesting.
Maine Medical Center and Mercy Hospital were no longer accepting any new patients. The decision was announced late Thursday, prompting protests outside of Mercy Hospital that required National Guard intervention.
Several state-funded triage centers had been established over the past week around the greater Portland area and had filled with patients even before they officially opened on Thursday, leading to more protests and a near takeover of the triage cen
ter located at the Maine Medical building in Falmouth. Local law enforcement and State Troopers had kept the situation from escalating out of control until elements of an Air National Guard unit could be airlifted into a nearby strip mall parking lot.
As of Friday afternoon, most Guard units had been reassigned to provide security for area hospitals and state triage centers, leaving local authorities to handle any civil unrest within Portland.
Portland’s situation seemed no different than that of the rest of the nation. Every treatment facility was overwhelmed, understaffed, and days away from exhausting critical medical supplies. Federal and state emergency supply packages couldn’t meet the demand and would likely be exhausted within the next few weeks. The country was on the brink of a complete breakdown, and New England was now facing a storm system that most meteorologists agreed would be a uniquely devastating early season storm.
Alex stopped his scan and focused in the direction of the Murrays’ house. The scope’s green picture was different on this scan. His last good scan of the neighborhood had occurred about thirty minutes earlier.
“All right, what’s going on here?” he whispered to himself, half asleep.
He squinted into the scope noticing that the area didn’t appear to be as bright as before. Alex turned off the scope and opened the battery compartment to replace the batteries. The discarded batteries made way too much noise for two in the morning as they clanged against the metallic waste can. He cringed from the noise and listened intently for any signs of disturbed sleep throughout the house.
He turned on the scope and resumed his inspection. The scene was slightly brighter, but still darker than before. He stared at the scene for another minute, before lowering the scope.
“Goddamn it, they’re in,” he whispered aloud. He considered calling Charlie or Ed, but was pretty certain that neither household would appreciate a call at two thirty in the morning.
“This is not good.”
“What’s not good?” Ryan said out of nowhere.
Alex barely held onto the night vision scope as he took in a short quick breath and whirled on his knees to face the direction of Ryan’s voice.
“Ryan,” he whispered forcefully, “please do not surprise me like that. I swear you and your mother are trying to give me an infarction.”
“What’s an infarction, Dad,” Ryan asked groggily.
“A heart attack.”
Ryan smiled. “Sounds like the technical term for farting.”
“That’s flatulence,” Alex corrected.
“So what’s going on out there? I don’t think Mom likes it when you do this kind of stuff,” Ryan said, kneeling next to him.
“What kind of stuff?”
“Going tactical.”
“What do you mean?” Alex asked, though he had a pretty good idea.
“I think she gets worried when you get too into the military stuff. Like staring through night vision in the middle of the night. She doesn’t think it’s healthy for you.”
“Does she talk about it with you?” he asked Ryan.
“Sometimes. Mostly when you space out. Like at the beach this summer. She was really worried for a while.”
Alex could immediately tell that Ryan was unlikely to say more on his own. “What was she worried about?” he prodded.
“I don’t know. Just worried,” he said vaguely, and Alex knew that he didn’t want to talk about it.
He had never suspected that she talked to the kids about his problem. He’d just assumed that she treated it the same way that he did, like it didn’t exist. Now he wondered if it bothered her on a daily basis.
“Buddy, I know you really don’t want to talk about this, but I need to know something, and I’ll never bring it up again. And I won’t be mad at anyone. All right?”
He looked at Ryan, who nodded his head but was clearly struggling with the conversation.
“Was Mommy worried that I might hurt one of you?” Alex asked.
“No,” he said, shaking his head emphatically, “she was…”
Alex put his arm around Ryan and hugged him.
Ryan hesitated to answer and cast his eyes down again, turning his head back toward the window shade.
“Really, buddy, does Mommy think I might hurt you guys?”
Ryan shook his head again, still staring at the shade in front of him. An uneven wave of anger washed over him, anger directed at Kate. He could barely stomach the thought that she believed him to be capable of hurting the kids, or her. He barely suppressed the thought and had to press his lips closed to keep the words from escaping.
He wondered if Ryan could sense his anger. The anger was immediately doused by a rush of guilt. His flashbacks had increased in intensity and duration over the past three or four years, since returning from deployment in Iraq. Kate pleaded with him to see a counselor at the Veteran’s Center, or a private psychologist that specialized in PTSD.
This realization was beginning to sink in when Ryan finally answered.
“Mommy knows you’d never hurt one of us. She always tells us that.”
He hesitated, and Alex sensed that he was not finished.
“But you’re not sure?” Alex whispered.
“I know you wouldn’t do anything to us like some of the guys that came back, but…”
He let Ryan’s long pause go uninterrupted and heard him sob softly, taking in several quick breaths through his nose.
“But Mommy thinks that one day you’ll go down into the basement and not come back up.”
Alex hugged him tightly. “I would never leave you guys like that. Ever,” he whispered fiercely by Ryan’s ear.
Ryan hugged him even tighter, and Alex felt tears drop onto his neck.
“But that’s what happens to a lot of guys who come back,” Ryan barely managed to get out between sobs.
“Very…very few soldiers take their lives when they come back. It’s extremely rare, and when it happens, it happens pretty soon after they return. I’ve been back for eight years, and I’m not going anywhere. Hey, I finally got you mowing the lawn, and I enjoy listening to the lawn mower from the couch way too much to make an early exit,” he joked, and Ryan’s sobs were stitched with a few stifled laughs.
He loosened his grip on his son and held him in front of him by his shoulders.
“Seriously, I love you guys too much to do that, and I swear to you that I’ve never considered it, not even once, since I returned from Iraq. I can’t remember ever thinking about suicide. Ever. I just don’t think it’s part of my programming. I can’t envision any circumstance under which I would do it. Now, before, ever,” Alex assured him.
“Like, even if you were captured by terrorists, and they were going to torture you in the worst way possible and then cut off your head on TV?”
“Well, if it was an Al Jazeera pay-per-view event, and all of the proceeds went to Muslim fundamentalist terrorists…then I might consider ruining their show. Where did you get that crazy idea?”
“I don’t know. From the news. I can never understand why the people in those internet videos just let them hack their heads off,” Ryan said.
“You haven’t watched any of those videos? Right?”
“No. No, but they showed one of them on the news, right up until the terrorist started hacking, and the guy in the video just let it happen.”
“I’m not sure those guys really, truly believed it would happen to them. Or maybe they just didn’t want to give the terrorists the satisfaction of reacting at all. We’ll never know.
“I’m sorry about telling you what Mommy said. She really didn’t want me to say anything, but I get scared thinking about it,” Ryan admitted, finally looking at Alex.
Alex could see that his eyes were still sad, though the tears had stopped.
“No, you really have nothing to be sorry about. I’m fine, but I’ve been acting a little strange at times. I can see why you guys are worried. Really. You don’t need to feel bad about this. You guys are l
ooking out for me. That’s what a team does, and we’re a tight team here. Task Force Fletcher. You guys take care of me, and I’ll take care of you. We’re all doing a pretty good job so far. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. You’re doing an awesome job. Mommy tells us that all the time. I feel bad for everyone else out there, but I’m really glad we’re safe in here.”
“My job is to keep us all safe, and I’ll do anything to accomplish that mission.”
“What are you checking out?” Ryan asked, nodding at the night vision scope.
“Here, take a look,” Alex said and handed him the scope.
“First take an unaided look over toward the Murrays’ house. Can’t really see much because the Sheppards’ house is blocking most of the view, and the houses on the other side of the loop aren’t helping either. At most, you can see part of one garage bay. Now that you have a wide frame of reference, aim the scope in that direction and try to find that same garage bay.”
Ryan searched through the scope for nearly a minute until he settled in on one point. “I have it. I love this thing. It’s like daytime,” he exclaimed.
“Yeah. There’s a lot of ambient light out there from the streetlight a few houses down. That’s all this scope needs to turn the block into daylight. If that light was out, it would still work, but not this well. So…I’ve been keeping an eye on their house for the past few hours, and even though you think it’s pretty bright over there through the scope, it’s definitely darker than it was about thirty minutes ago. I left some of the lights on at the Murrays’, and although I can’t see the windows from here, I could sort of see the ambient glow coming from the house. I don’t see that anymore, if that makes any sense.”
“Yeah, kind of. So why aren’t the lights on anymore?” Ryan asked, looking up from the scope at Alex.
“That’s the million dollar question. Who turned out the lights?” Alex took the scope to take a look for himself. “That’s why your dad is up at two in the morning staring at the neighborhood through night vision.”
“You think it’s those people in the car?”
“Yeah, that’s my guess.”
“And you’re pretty worried about them?”
THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5 Page 25