Dak felt lucky he’d never experienced symptoms of that malady. He always figured he was just wired differently than other folks. The sounds of guns or explosions didn’t startle him the way they did so many others. It merely jerked him into action, and when it was over he went back to breathing the same way he had before.
These thoughts flitted in and out of his mind as he disappeared into the forest, leaving behind only the bright moonlight of the cloudless sky. He was happy to be back in the darkness. He could hide in it, use it to his advantage.
When the driveway came into view again, he slowed his pace and picked a spot behind a thicket of shrubs to set up shop.
Dak set his bag on the ground and opened the main flap. He removed two claymore-style mines he’d built in his shop back in Tennessee and set the remote detonator on the ground next to the pack. He checked around again when he heard the sound of a distant car on the highway, but the tires on asphalt swelled then dissipated.
Hurrying to the driveway with the two mines, Dak found a log next to the gravel path and positioned one mine next to it in such a way that no one would see it as they approached the cabin.
Then, he took the second mine about twenty paces back toward the road and found a stump a few feet off the driveway. Dak repeated the setup of the first mine and then returned to the shrubs where he’d left the rest of his gear.
He cocked his head to the left and then right, both to loosen up and to keep himself alert. It had been a long day already, and when he’d woken up that morning he had no idea he’d be called upon to do something like this.
There was no way to know how long it would take the villains to arrive, if they showed up at all. Civilians, he’d learned, could be prone to paranoia more often than those trained to see threats, but Alex and Tara had been trained by Sean Wyatt, and from what Dak knew of the man, Sean was one of the best.
Dak squatted down on a mat he’d stowed in the pack and waited. His dark outerwear not only kept him warm in the chill of the night, but also nearly invisible. Even if someone shined a light on him, they would have difficulty spotting him in the camo outfit.
He kept his night-vision goggles on top of his head. If and when enemy vehicles arrived, the lights could blind him with the goggles on, but after the blast of the mines, if there were any headlights still on, those would be his first targets.
After half an hour of being camped out in the woods, he checked his watch and noted the time. Dak spent hours hunting deer in the mountains of Tennessee along the Cumberland plateau. It was much colder up there at the higher elevations during winter, so both hours of no action and the cold didn’t bother him.
As luck would have it, he heard the sound of vehicles rumbling down the highway just a few minutes after looking at the time.
He loosened up and rechecked the remote detonator in his lap, flipped the arming switch, and waited.
A loud bang signaled that one of the vehicles had just rammed through the closed gate at the front of the driveway.
If there had been any doubts about the intruders’ intentions, those doubts vanished in an instant.
Dak held his thumb over a red button and waited. Three SUVs came into view with bright headlights blazing through the endless rows of trees. The ghostly beams sprayed around Dak as the vehicles wound through one of the curves. He remained perfectly still until the first in the convoy neared the log where he’d placed the first mine.
When the SUV’s front right tire was parallel with the log, Dak pressed the red button.
A fiery blast erupted, echoing like a mortar firework through the woods. Dak knew the damage would be significant. Not only would the SUV be disabled, but anyone in the front seat, and probably in the back, would be riddled with hundreds of ball bearings.
The other two SUVs slammed on their brakes in exactly the places Dak anticipated. He flipped the arming switch for the second mine and pressed the red button again. A second blast rocked the forest.
Smoke billowed out of the two mangled vehicles. Dak raised his rifle and fired two quick shots. The suppressor on the muzzle kept the sound to little more than a few clicks. The headlights blinked out in rapid succession and plunged the survivors of the attack into an abrupt and terrible darkness.
The damage from the explosions knocked out the lights of the front and rear vehicles, which left only the taillights of the second SUV for the assault team now scrambling to regroup.
With the advantage of darkness, Dak lowered the night-vision goggles and aligned his sights with the panicked hitmen as they clambered out of the middle SUV. One by one, Dak picked them off like fish in a coffeepot. The would-be killers never saw it coming. The driver of the second vehicle figured out that the gunfire taking out his men was coming from the right side, somewhere in the forest. He climbed out of the truck, took cover behind the engine block, and then foolishly stepped out with a submachine gun at his hip. The man sprayed bullets into the forest, which could have been dangerous had he a clue where the sniper was positioned. As it was, Dak remained safe a good twenty yards to the left of the barrage.
When the man’s weapon signaled he was empty with a series of clicks, Dak put his head in the crosshairs and put a 5.56 round through his skull.
When the survivors from the second vehicle were dead, Dak stood from his spot in the bushes and proceeded forward. He moved up fast, using the wider tree trunks as cover until he reached the third SUV, where he lowered his rifle and drew a pistol from his hip.
He detected movement in the back seat and shifted to the driver’s side, from where the movement came. That side of the truck looked virtually unharmed except for the blown-out windows. Dak saw the head in the back tossing one way then the other. No doubt, the victim was dazed by the blast and the subsequent attack.
When he reached the door, Dak jerked it open and grabbed the man inside with his left hand. He pressed the gun to his forehead as he dragged the assailant to the ground. There, Dak saw the damage. The man was bleeding from the right side of his neck and face, where bearings had torn through his flesh.
Dak stood and pressed his boot against the man’s face to keep him still while he searched the rest of the vehicle. No movement came from within, and after watching the other two for several seconds, he decided everyone else was dead.
He lowered back down and put the gun to the side of the man’s head.
“Who sent you here?” Dak demanded.
The dying man looked up into Dak’s face. Painted with streaks of black and dark green, his face showed only the whites and green of Dak’s eyes. They poured rage out against the blackness. It was a haunting visage, and the man’s eyes widened momentarily.
He shook his head vehemently. “Death comes to all,” he said. “It is already done.”
“It’s going to come to you unless you tell me who you’re working for.”
The attacker laughed, and when he showed his teeth, streaks of blood stained them. As he turned his head, Dak caught a glimpse of the ankh tattooed on the man’s neck.
“An ankh,” Dak said. “Well, that makes sense. Thanks, idiot. You just told me who you’re working for.”
Fear ripped through the man’s gaze. “No. That’s impossible. No one outside the Fellowship knows its meaning. No one can know.”
“You sure about that? There are a few of us who know all about the Fellowship,” Dak lied.
He had no idea what the man was saying. He’d taken a gamble on the tat since the guy didn’t appear to have any others, though his body was pretty much covered in clothing. Still, the types of people who get neck tattoos were also the types to get lots of them. With only one, there had to be some kind of special meaning behind it. From the sound of it, his bet had paid off. “Maybe I’ll keep you alive and let the Fellowship know about your betrayal.”
“Thoth already has me in his grip,” the dying man said. “Soon, I will be with him in eternity.”
His voice faded, and he gurgled. The man’s body shook as it resisted t
he ultimate step into oblivion and then went limp.
With a grim look in his eyes, Dak stared at the dead man. He’d seen death like that many times, and most of the incidents hadn’t affected him. The only reason this one did was because of the strange things the man was saying.
Fellowship? Thoth?
He’d heard of the emerald tablets of Thoth but never put much into it since they sounded more like a hoax than anything. Maybe they weren’t after all.
Dak would leave that to the experts.
He checked the other two SUVs to make sure everyone else was taken care of. In total, he’d killed twelve men.
Who would send an assault team of that size out here into the hills of North Georgia to kill a couple of kids and lab assistants?
He secured his rifle and returned to the spot where he left the tactical bag and detonator. With his pack strapped to his back again, Dak trudged down the driveway to the house. He took out his phone, called Alex, and put the phone to his ear.
“Dak? You okay?” Alex sounded worried.
“You heard the blasts, huh?” Dak asked, almost sounding amused.
“Hard not to. They shook the whole cabin. We heard some gunfire too. The kids didn’t. They were in the back room playing some old video games that Mack keeps lying around. They heard the explosions, but not the gunfire.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Fireworks,” Alex said, clearing his throat of the half lie.
“That’s not entirely inaccurate.”
The cabin came into view around the last curve. “I’m coming up the driveway,” Dak said. “So don’t shoot me.”
Alex forced an awkward huff. “We won’t. And Dak? Thank you.”
“You’re safe for now. That’s all that matters.”
31
Cartersville
Dak stood near the door to the cabin while the fire flickered in the hearth, radiating its warmth throughout the living room. He took a sip from a white mug of coffee Helen had brewed earlier, never taking his eyes away from the window.
He’d been standing there since he entered the cabin, over forty minutes ago. The kids were tucked away in their beds for the night. Mack and Helen sat on the sofa, pistols to their sides and rifles leaning against the coffee table directly in front of them. Tara and Alex each sat in their own club chairs near the fireplace. They also kept pistols nearby.
“It’s approaching an hour since the attack,” Mack said, checking his watch. “You think they will send more after this long?”
Dak drew another long, slurpy sip from the mug, then nodded. “Maybe. I don’t mind sitting up a bit longer. We could do this in shifts if you prefer.”
“I suppose the question is, how deep are their resources?” Helen asked. As a former member of the Department of Defense, she knew how many of the inner procedures and protocols worked for her agency. But this was a different animal, a beast yet to reveal its spots or stripes.
“Based on the little I know, and from what I observed earlier, I’d say they’re well funded, supplied, and trained. I got lucky taking all of them out like that.”
“You had a good plan,” Tara insisted. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Could be,” Dak said. “Good thing I got here when I did. Those guys were armed to the teeth.”
“Were they being tracked?” Alex wondered. “Or will whoever they work for be expecting them to report in soon?”
“Probably, which is why it’s a good idea if we keep a rotating watch throughout the night, two-hour shifts each. I don’t mind taking the first one, unless one of you wants to.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Helen said. “But I agree, we should definitely keep watch.”
The words had just left her mouth when Dak noticed something out in the woods. He lowered his cup of coffee, setting it on a tall stool he’d pulled over from the kitchen. He leaned closer to the window, peering through the glass.
“What is it?” Mack wondered, noting the sudden shift in attention.
“Headlights,” Dak answered. “Sooner than I thought.”
Tara and Alex sprang to action and took up positions on either side of the living room window. Mack and Helen maneuvered to the kitchen window and peeked through it at the headlights creeping through the forest. The beams bounced and wobbled, indicating that whoever was coming had found a way to get around the firefight wreckage.
“Looks like only one car,” Tara announced. “I would have thought they’d send more.”
“They might have saved some for backup,” Dak said. “Or this vehicle is coming in to scout out what happened.”
Once the headlights were beyond the obliterated vehicles, it merged back onto the driveway and the beams stopped bouncing as much.
Helen sighed, checking her rifle. She slid open the window and got down on one knee. “Seems like only yesterday a gunfight destroyed our cabin. Now, here we are again, getting ready to do it a second time.”
Joe hung his head. “Yeah.”
A black sedan appeared in the moonlight and rolled to a stop about forty yards away from the front porch.
Helen poked the rifle out through the open window. Her husband followed, taking aim at the silhouette of the driver. His finger tensed on the trigger, awaiting the order to fire.
All the group could see were two figures in the sedan, and from the looks of it, they were both women.
A long pause settled over the cabin. No one said a word. They barely breathed, keeping their breaths shallow and smooth, as if the intruders could hear them.
Out of nowhere, Tara’s phone vibrated. At first, she ignored it, thinking it was a friend sending her a funny video or meme. But the device vibrated a second time, and she decided to see what was going on.
Tara looked at the screen and realized the message was from Emily. She returned to cover behind the wall and read the text from Emily silently.
“It’s us. Don’t shoot.”
“Guys,” Tara said, holding out her left hand. “It’s Emily.”
Everyone visibly relaxed, except Dak, who maintained his hardened expression, gazing out the window with his piercing green eyes.
“You sure?” he asked.
“That’s what she said,” Tara replied, holding up her phone as proof.
“Text her back and tell her and the passenger to get out of the car slowly, with their hands high.”
“Okay,” Tara said. She tapped out the message on her phone and hit the send button.
Soon after, the doors to the sedan inched open, and two female figures stepped out. They put up their hands and motioned to the back of the car. The two rear doors opened then, and two more people exited the vehicle with their hands up.
Tara and Alex recognized the black couple immediately in the combined glow of porch light and moonlight.
“It’s Desmond’s parents!” Alex gasped in relief. “And definitely Emily and June,” he added quickly.
Dak finally eased up and stepped to the side, allowing the young couple to pass. They shuffled out onto the porch and waited, waving their hands at the approaching refugees. Tara hugged Emily when she arrived, then June. She even hugged Mrs. Ellerby, though she barely knew the woman on a personal level.
Mr. Ellerby shook hands with Alex. “Thank you for bringing my kids here,” he said. “I’ll never forget it. Although it looks like y’all had some trouble out here earlier.”
“It was no trouble,” Dak said from the corner of the doorframe. “Firefight lasted less than two minutes. And the kids were never in any real danger.”
“Where are the children?” Mrs. Ellerby asked, her eyes aflame with worry.
“Asleep in one of the back rooms. They’re safe,” Helen said, stepping out onto the porch with Mack. “I’m Helen and this is Joe. We live here when we’re not out in the field working for the IAA.”
“Call me Mack,” Joe said, shaking hands with the two. “We have plenty of room for everyone. Plenty of blankets, towels, everything. Might
be a bit tight, but we’ll make it work. You two can take our bed.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mrs. Ellerby said. “I’m Carolyn, by the way.”
“And I’m Daniel,” Mr. Ellerby added.
Helen moved aside and motioned everyone into the cabin. “Y’all get inside, now. It’s too chilly to be out here at this time of night.”
The group retreated to the safety of the indoors, and when they were all in, Mack locked the door.
Helen offered the new guests coffee and a bite to eat despite the late hour. They declined but appreciated the generosity.
“No coffee this late for me,” Emily said. “But thank you.” She turned to Tara and Alex, concern written on her face. “Have you heard anything out of the guys yet?”
The couple shook their heads.
“Not recently,” Alex said.
“No, we’ve had our own stuff we’ve been dealing with,” Tara added.
“That’s what I figured,” Emily stated. “We’re lucky we were able to get these two out of their home.” She slowed down for a second and took an uneasy breath. “Unfortunately, things got messy in there.”
Daniel’s face turned to stone. Carolyn faltered from the memory, unleashing a long exhale to try to fight back the trauma of what she’d seen. During their adventures in treasure hunting, the Ellerbys had faced a few shady people, but it hadn’t ended in death. Not like tonight.
It was a baptism by fire for the both of them, and the new world they emerged into from the murky, blood-soaked depths was far more dangerous and violent than they ever conceived.
“We had to eliminate several imposters,” June said. She pulled back the black hoodie and revealed her golden-blonde hair. “They definitely looked the part of FBI, but they all had the same tattoo on their necks.”
The Milestone Protocol Page 26