THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5

by Steven Konkoly

  “Good thing I didn’t need a rescue,” he said.

  She looked down at her outfit. “What? I was on lookout duty.”

  “Yeah, you missed one. He was carrying a stack of wood back to their little headquarters at the Murrays’,” he said, still panting.

  “Why didn’t you shoot him?” she asked seriously.

  “Why didn’t I shoot him? Trust me, I thought about it, but he was too far away and had a shotgun. I did the math, pistol against shotgun. No thanks. I have a plan to get them all at once,” he said, standing straight and taking a deep breath.

  He walked into the garage and kissed Kate, making sure to double lock the door behind him. Inside the house, Max’s claws frantically scraped the mudroom tile to build up momentum for a run through the house to find the kids. Alex locked the door behind him and engaged the deadbolt. The house felt like the Caribbean compared to outside.

  “I’m sorry I missed that guy…I went to the bathroom.”

  “Don’t worry about it, honey. Charlie missed him, too. I’m just a little disturbed that he got by both of you in broad daylight,” he said, stroking her hair.

  “What happened over there?” she asked softly, searching his eyes.

  Alex avoided her glance. “You really don’t want to know.”

  “The kids?” she asked, embracing him.

  Alex stayed silent.

  “No. All of them?”

  He nodded.

  “I can’t believe this is happening. They killed the kids? What kind of people do that for food and firewood?” she said visibly shaking.

  “Evil people,” he replied, holding her a few seconds before freeing himself.

  “We should definitely call the police,” Kate said.

  “What’s the point? This’ll all be over long before the police show up. They’ll move against us pretty quickly. Probably tonight. I’m gonna use that to our advantage.”

  Alex walked toward the kitchen, leaving puddles of melted snow on the tile floor.

  “We’re getting slammed by another Nor’easter tonight. This might have to wait.”

  “These guys aren’t going to wait. They’ve killed two nights in a row…that we know of. I have no doubt they’ll be paying us a visit. Storm or no storm, we have to be ready for them,” he said, opening the basement door.

  “What’s your plan?”

  “First, I’m going to talk to Charlie and see if he’s willing to help me take them down. I don’t imagine that’ll be a hard sell. I figure they’ll leave the Murrays’ after dark and make their way behind the houses to get here. I’m going to hit them along the way. Catch them in a crossfire with Charlie; take them by surprise. The storm’s timing couldn’t be better actually. They’ll never expect it,” he said.

  “You sound like you’re enjoying this again,” Kate said, with a worried look.

  Alex leaned his head back into the kitchen to face Kate. “After what I just saw…you’re probably right to some degree. I made a mistake not killing them when I had the chance. I’m going to correct that.”

  Chapter 41

  Alex kissed Kate and held her tightly. They stood several feet inside the darkened garage clutching each other, neither one ready to let go. A frigid wind blew through the back door, bathing them in arctic air and dusting them with fresh snowflakes. Kate shivered, and Alex broke the embrace, still holding her hand.

  “I’ll be fine. Cold, but fine. You can talk to me all night,” he said.

  “I still don’t understand why you can’t take care of this from the house,” she said, squeezing his hand harder.

  “They’ll be expecting some form of resistance at the house. We need to catch them off guard and put an end to this on our terms—not theirs. I don’t want them anywhere near the house. Who knows what kind of firepower they have? Don’t worry, once it starts, it’ll be over quickly. Just keep the kids in Ryan’s room tonight. That’ll put the most house between you and whatever happens out there…”

  “I’ll be sitting in a chair, keeping watch on that house. If I see anything, I’ll buzz you on the walkie.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be able to see anything, but that’s fine. Just make sure you don’t have any lights on behind you. When I tell you to get into Ryan’s room, you have to promise me you’ll do it. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” she said.

  “No matter what you hear outside, stay with the kids, and keep the Sig Sauer with you at all times. Remember, there’s no safety on the gun. You just pull the trigger and boom. Remind the kids of that again, especially Ryan. All right, it’s getting darker, and I want to be in position when the light is gone,” he said, kissing her one more time. “I love you.”

  “I love you more. Be careful. Those people are…” she trailed off, letting go of his hand.

  “I know, and pretty soon, they’ll be gone. I love you. Keep in touch, but remember, Charlie has one of the spares. Once we start shooting, stay off unless there’s an emergency at the house. Charlie and I will need to talk. See you in a few hours.” He stepped through the open back doorway into the backyard.

  Alex closed the door and watched Kate through the windowpanes, waiting to hear deadbolt click before waving goodbye. Trudging toward the back of their property, he looked over his shoulder to the west, unable to determine the sun’s azimuth or location on the horizon through the dingy, shapeless low ceiling of ashen gray clouds.

  Darkness would start to envelop the neighborhood within the next twenty minutes. In less than an hour, the block would be pitch black. The Mansons would make their move soon after that. At least he hoped they would; he wasn’t sure how long he could last out in the snowstorm.

  He pushed through the snow, following the same path he’d traveled during his outbound morning trek. His footprints were still visible in the snow along the back of his property, where the yard sunk into a shallow drainage ditch. The channel connected all of the yards on his side of the neighborhood to a water retention area beyond the McCarthys’ backyard. He planned to use the natural cover to arrive at his preselected position undetected.

  Alex slid into the ditch and proceeded north. The snow was slightly deeper here, so he slogged forward slowly, watching the corner of his house. A few more steps and he would briefly cross the Manson’s line of sight from the Murrays’ house. After the morning’s encounter, he guessed the Mansons might be keeping watch on his house. He lowered his silhouette and nudged forward until he was clear of the gap.

  Once past the gap, he proceeded at a faster pace, more interested in getting to his position than remaining stealthy. Charlie had been watching the Murrays’ house for the past hour, looking for any signs of activity. Alex doubted they’d use any of the front doors, instead opting to sneak around the back. Where Charlie would hopefully spot them moving between houses. Charlie was perched at the window closest to the Murrays’, watching with binoculars and an 8X wide-angle night vision spotting scope. His other night vision device, a 10X scope, was attached to a hunting rifle; the same rifle Charlie planned to use tonight.

  Alex’s night vision options were considerably limited compared to Charlie’s. He’d attached an Aimpoint sight to his AR-15 rifle early in the afternoon, while preparing the equipment needed for their night ambush. Similar to the sighting system he used in Iraq, the scope provided an illuminated red dot for quickly engaging targets—during the day. Unlike Charlie, he’d have to first pick out targets with his hand-held night vision scope, hoping to somehow find them with the Aimpoint sight. Not optimal, but he’d done this under worse conditions. Besides, the plan called for Charlie to do most of the accurate shooting. Alex’s job was to keep them bottled up between houses.

  He worked his way across the Thompsons’ backyard. Their house looked empty, though he knew for a fact it was occupied. A few days ago, James Thompson wandered across the backyard, carrying a shovel into the woods behind their house. Alex concluded he was looking for a burial site in the woods behind their property. James ha
d returned several minutes later, too quickly to have made any serious progress digging. At this point in December, Alex didn’t think it was feasible to dig a proper grave without heavy equipment.

  He paused and searched the woods. The conservation woodland located at the eastern corner of the neighborhood contained a path that connected with Hewitt Park and hundreds of additional acres of protected forest and trails. Jim’s lone footsteps were visible in the snow, approaching a trailhead that disappeared into a tangle of mature evergreens, oaks and birch. As he turned back to the path a strong gust of wind raked him.

  Aside from a small area of exposed skin below his ski goggles and above his mouth, Alex didn’t feel the effects of the bitter northerly wind. He wore two layers of full-length thermal underwear, covered by two pairs of expensive snowboarding pants, two layers of thick wool socks, a wool turtleneck sweater, and his favorite blue weatherproof winter jacket.

  He’d ditched his combat boots for a pair of storm boots. Wool inserts and the warmest waterproof gloves he had ever owned covered his hands. His head was sheathed in a black balaclava. A black watch cap, further enclosed by the jacket’s oversized hood, kept the wind and snow off his head.

  The ensemble felt like overkill for the conditions, but he knew better. Once the sun dropped below the horizon, and the storm picked up, conditions outside would deteriorate rapidly. Lying prone in a static position would only make matters worse.

  He continued across the Thompsons’ yard, paying the same caution when crossing between the Thompsons’ and Carters’ property. Peeking above the top of the ditch, he saw that the Murrays’ house was completely obscured by the Thorntons’. As he crossed the Carters’ property, he heard his walkie-talkie crackle to life, the voice muffled in his front jacket pocket. He stopped, his heart racing as he fumbled to open the pocket zipper and grab the radio.

  “This is Alex, say again, over.”

  “It’s just me, Kate. I can’t see you anymore. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” her voice crackled over the speaker.

  “I’m fine. I’m almost past the Carters’. Let me get in position, and we can chat a little. All right?”

  “Okay. How is it out there?” she persisted.

  “Miserable. I’ll probably end up pouring the hot tea over my head in a few minutes. Could you stoke up the wood-burning stove really good? I’m going to be frozen when this is over. Talk to you later, out.”

  “Love you,” she added.

  “Love you too, out.”

  Alex hooked the walkie onto the shoulder strap of his backpack and pressed on, seeing his first choice of firing positions: the McCarthys’ play set. Darkness poured into the neighborhood, and he checked his watch. 3:59. According to his handheld GPS back in the house, sunset was set for 4:04. The end of civil twilight, or the glow on the horizon, would be 4:37, but with the thick storm clouds, there would be no glow—only sheer darkness.

  He picked up the pace, struggling through the snow as he safely crossed between the Carters’ and McCarthys’ lots. The Murrays’ house appeared briefly between the two houses, almost completely obscured by the snowstorm. Alex lowered himself to a crouch as he pushed through the ditch.

  At the far corner of the McCarthys’ property, Alex left the ditch and approached the play set, which was located halfway between the McCarthys’ house and the edge of the drainage area. The vast drainage area was significantly lower than the McCarthys’ lot, forming a steep slope along the entire back edge of the property.

  He considered a position along that ridge, but decided against it due to the distance. A position there would add another fifty yards to his engagement range. Given the storm’s increasing intensity and the lack of light, he wanted to fire from a position closer to the Coopers’ house. He reconsidered the ridge momentarily, looking at a spot closer to the Coopers’ property, which might give him the same range. Finally he decided that he wanted to stay between the Manson’s and his own family.

  Alex arrived at the play set and slid his black backpack to the snow. Removing a small foldable shovel from the back of the pack, he ducked under the main tower of the play set and waded into a three-foot snowdrift. After clearing an area twice the width of his body, he kneeled on the packed snow under the tower and carved a large hole into the front of his new snow fort. The opening provided an unobstructed view across the Coopers’ and Hayes’ yards.

  Satisfied with the firing-position’s orientation, he set his rifle on the heavy log stretched across the base of opening—more or less convinced the heavy wood frame of the sandbox would provide excellent protection from any return fire. When Alex stood to retrieve his backpack, the wind gusted, pelting him with thick, horizontal waves of snow.

  Alex detached the radio from the shoulder strap and put it back into his coat pocket, before lying down in the fort to arrange his temporary shelter. First, he removed a gray and brown wool blanket, pushing it toward the front of the fort. Several magazines for his rifle came next—stuffed into the lower cargo pockets of his snowboarding pants. He left the pockets unzipped, hopeful that the backup Velcro tabs would keep the spare magazines from spilling out. He tapped the black hip holster on his right leg, which held his .45 H&K USP semiautomatic pistol and two spare magazines.

  Finally, he removed the night vision scope and binoculars, setting both down on top of a blue towel retrieved from another compartment of the backpack. Closing the backpack, he pushed it against the right side of the hideout before standing up to fold the wool blanket in half. He spread the folded blanket on the packed snow and kneeled down, pushing himself forward into the fort. Lying prone, he faced directly into the ambush zone. Perfect. He strained to see past the Coopers’ yard as darkness descended. His watch read 4:17.

  “Charlie, this is Alex, over.”

  “Alex, this is Charlie. Read you loud and clear.”

  “Glad to hear your voice. I’m in position, with a clear view of the Coopers’ house and yard. I can see into the Hayes’, but the snow is really picking up out here. How does it look from your end?”

  “Pretty good. It’s getting pretty dark, and the snow is a problem, but I can see clearly between the houses. Night vision is working perfectly. Wish I had bought some kind of thermal imaging a while back. That’d be perfect for this kind of weather.”

  Alex couldn’t imagine why anyone would need a thermal imaging device. Then again, most people would wonder why he needed a night vision scope.

  “No kidding. These conditions are optimal for thermals. I haven’t checked out night vision yet. I can still see without it. Not for long I imagine.”

  “No worries though. We’ll pick them up if they move your way.”

  “Roger that. I have a good position and a great angle to hit them between the Hayes’ and the Coopers’. Once we know they’re coming, I’ll need you to let me know when they are about halfway between those two houses. I don’t have any way to judge the distance from here. I want the gap between those two houses to be their most logical escape from my fire. That way, they’ll be lined up for you. Remember, you shoot first. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Charlie confirmed.

  “Keep your rifle ready to fire at all times, and get ready to shift firing positions. Once we see them, this’ll go down quick.”

  “Roger, I cut a huge section of the screen out earlier today. I’m ready for this, Alex.”

  “All right, check in with me every fifteen minutes. Stay sharp.”

  “Be careful out there, man. We got your back over here, out.”

  Reaching into his right thigh pocket, Alex withdrew three rifle magazines and placed them on the towel next to the rifle. Alex nestled the rifle’s stock into his shoulder and searched through the Aimpoint scope for the far corner of the Coopers’ house. In the fading daylight, the red dot washed out the remaining image, so he reduced the intensity of the red dot, until it was barely visible. He closed the scope’s lens cover and lay the weapon down on the towel, before picking up the binocular
s.

  There was just enough light for him to see all of the way to the end of the Hayes’ house, though it was hard for him to pick out details other than windows and doors. If the Manson crew appeared now, he would definitely spot them with the binoculars. Within fifteen minutes, night vision would be his only hope of spotting them early enough to spring the trap.

  Alex set the binoculars down and picked up the night vision scope, activating the device. The previously dreary view was replaced by a sharp green image. He found the furthest back corner of the Hayes’ house, shifting briefly to the Cooper’s. Satisfied with the view, he deactivated the scope to conserve batteries.

  Alex watched the last vestiges of light spill out of the backyard, amazed how dark the neighborhood became without streetlamps or house lights. He sat up high enough to look over the snowdrift at the McCarthys’ house. Faint traces of light penetrated the blinds on the sliding glass door, indicating that they were probably huddled near the fireplace, unaware of the possible firefight that might erupt in their backyard.

  Although he could still see into the Coopers’ backyard, and most of the way to the Hayes’ house with the binoculars, it wasn’t far enough, he needed to switch to night vision before calling Kate.

  “Kate, this is Alex. You there?” he whispered into the walkie.

  “I’m here. It looks horrible out there.”

  “I hadn’t noticed, but thanks for the reminder. I hope this goes down soon, I’m not sure how long I can stay out here. How are the kids doing?” he asked, taking another look through the scope.

  “They’re fine, staying warm by the stove with Max. I’ll move them upstairs as soon as you guys spot them.”

  “Thanks. I need to concentrate on the scope now. Love you, honey. Are you still in your lookout post?”

  “No, I can’t see a thing past the Thorntons’. I’m with the kids. Don’t forget about the thermos of hot tea. I love you, and don’t do anything stupid,” she reminded him.