by T C Miller
“Faith is in short supply in our business, but I’ll do the best I can with my bosses. How many others are after me?”
Ivan stared at the ground as he went over his options. “Seven, and a man who waits with vehicles.”
“I killed four. Where are the other two?”
“This I do not know. Pyotr and Sasha were ordered to take girls for interrogation.”
“Where?”
“I wait to say until time is right.”
“That will have to do for now. How do I find them?”
Yancy orders them to go to Marston Ranch.”
“Then I need to get there fast. Are you going to keep up, or should I kill you now?”
“I am Cossack, I am faster than you.”
Inside The Marston Home
Mary watched Pyotr pace back and forth between the living room and the entry door, while Sasha chewed his fingernails down to the quick. She needed to distract them and lower the palpable tension. She stepped toward the kitchen.
“Where do you go, old woman?” Pyotr asked.
“To the kitchen. I’m hungry. Would you like something to eat?”
“No.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I would like something to eat, very much,” Sasha chimed in.
Pyotr scowled at his partner. “We ate not long ago.”
“Only two small donuts and cup of coffee. My stomach has no clock. I am hungry.”
“You are always hungry. Your stomach will cause you great trouble someday.”
“Yes, but until then, I want food.”
Mary listened to the banter and planned her next move. She would make her way to the kitchen and the hidden pistol in the back of the spice cabinet.
The kitchen held other potential weapons as well, like a meat tenderizer mallet, and carving knives that could prove valuable. Mary would be ready.
In the meantime, she needed to stall by humoring them. “Can I get you anything?” Although, I’m hoping you’ll leave soon.
“No,” was Pyotr’s curt reply.
“Da, I mean, yes, please,” Sasha replied.
“We need nothing,” Pyotr admonished his younger comrade.
“I, myself, am thirsty.”
“Shut up, imbecile. Old woman might poison us.”
Mary spoke up, “Look, guys, I’m not going to drug you or trick you. I was getting ready to have a snack when you two showed up, so I’m a little peckish.” “Peckish? What is peckish?” Pyotr demanded. “It means hungry.”
Sasha grinned. “Then I, too, am peckish.”
“I’ll also taste the food first so you can tell I didn’t poison it,” Mary offered.
“Okay, okay, if it will silence you, old woman, then we will eat.”
Mary ignored the comment. “What can I get you two? I have venison chili left over from last night, or elk stew. What sounds good to you?”
“Cheeseburger with mustard and onion,” Sasha said with another grin.
Mary smiled back. “What a surprise. I suppose you’d like French fries and a Coke, too?”
“It would make me very happy. My stomach would not be peckish.”
“I would like chili,” Pyotr said in a subdued tone. “I am more hungry than I first thought.”
“Okay, now the menu’s set, I need to get more Cokes from the icebox in the garage,” Mary said over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs.
“Stop, old woman,” Pyotr barked. “Do you think I am imbecile?”
Mary froze in mid-stride. “What do you mean?”
“I am not foolish. You will escape.”
“Not what I had in mind,” Mary said in a quiet voice. “You’re welcome to come with me.”
“No. Sasha will get Cokes while I watch you prepare food.”
“Works for me. Extra Cokes are in the refrigerator to the right as you go in, right next to the workbench.”
Mary started opening cabinet doors to gather the ingredients for lunch. She felt behind the lazy Susan spice rack in the cupboard in the corner to see if the Ruger Security Six revolver was where it should be.
Doc occasionally removed her personal weapon for cleaning and forgot to put it back. Mary breathed a sigh of relief when she touched the Pachmayr grips of the powerful weapon. She left it there for the time being. Hope to God I don’t need it.
Marston Ranch Entrance Building
Jake nudged the side door of the steel building open. He shoved an M1911A1 pistol in Ivan’s back and whispered, “Your guys open fire, you get it front and back, understood?”
“Nobody is in here.”
They stepped inside, and Jake pulled the door shut behind them. It took a moment to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights, but the building appeared to be empty. He scanned the room again and saw a panel on the front wall slightly askew.
Jake prodded Ivan forward and, as they got closer, saw a passageway behind it with steps leading down. “I go it alone from here.”
He pulled Ivan to a heavy workbench and unlocked the handcuffs long enough to wrap them around a heavy steel leg bolted to the floor. He snapped the manacles shut around Ivan’s wrists. “These should
hold you while I take care of your buddies.”
“Who says they are here?”
“Instinct and a lot of years in law enforcement. You learn to think like criminals. In fact, I’d bet my next paycheck they’re here.”
Ivan slid the handcuffs down the leg of the bench and sat cross-legged on the floor. He stared ahead with a sullen look.
Jake moved potential tools or weapons away from the mercenary and returned to the hidden passageway. He slipped inside, oriented himself, and silently descended the stairs to a steel door.
House-End of Tunnel From Cave
“I’d sure like to know what happened to Joanna,” Doc said to Licia. “Any ideas?”
“None…said she was going back to check out something on the trail and she’d catch up.”
Doc glanced up at a picture of the entry building. “Looks like Jake’s here. We may find out what happened to her.”
“How?”
“I assume they’re using tactical radios to keep in touch. Although, the reception may be spotty down in the ravine.”
Licia peered over Doc’s shoulder at the security display. “He’ll get things under control in no time.”
“You think a lot of his skills, don’t you?”
“In the short time I’ve been around Jake, he saved my life three times. Best security guy I’ve ever seen.”
“How many security guys have you seen in your young life?”
“More than you might imagine, and he’s the best.”
“You may be right since he apparently took care of the guys chasing us.”
“Getting rid of bad guys tops his list of skill. So, what now?”
“I’m a simple country vet, but I’d say me getting into the house would be a good idea. As good as he may be, he might need a little help.”
Doc pulled a Beretta Pico from his pocket and made sure it was loaded.
Doc made a remark about it being a foreign-made pistol when Joanna gave it to him earlier. “I would have thought you’d be a made-in-the-USA kind of gal. Certainly not an Italian weapon, and a .380 to boot.”
“Don’t let the name fool you,” Joanna said as she removed the backup weapon from an ankle holster. “Made right here in the good ol’ US of A.”
“I like that, but a .380? Not much knockdown power.”
“Law enforcement in Europe refers to it as the mini-nine. It has more power than you’d think and makes a good backup. Lightweight and smooth, without the kick of .40s or .45. I like the double-action, too.”
“You seem to know your weapons.”
“Pays to be familiar with the tools of your trade.” “And what trade is that?”
Joanna smiled and shrugged.
Doc tapped the keypad on the security system as Licia watched.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Watching Jake head down the stairs to the house door. I’m turning on the monitor next to it, so he’ll have the same view inside.”
Jake froze in place and scanned the area as a computer screen sprang to life. The unit was either motion-detector activated, or his arrival was expected. The display was split into six views of the interior of the underground home and showed two male figures in the dining room.
His instinct hadn’t failed him. They were the two men dressed in black he saw using the gas pumps at Great America. He assumed the woman in the kitchen was Mary Marston.
The woman groped around an upper cabinet while talking with the mercenary. She appeared to be quietly searching for something in the back.
Another section of the screen showed the other mercenary moving toward the entry building door.
Jake slid to the hinge side and waited for the intruder to step through. He grabbed the Russian by the neck and slammed his head into the wall. A resounding thud testified to the force, and he collapsed unconscious to the floor.
Jake zip-tied the man’s hands behind him and stuffed a glove in his mouth as a gag.
The monitor showed the other mercenary look toward the stairwell. He spoke to the woman and started to rise, but changed his mind and settled back into the cozy recliner. He shook his head and waved his hands in a gesture of disgust. The woman smiled and shrugged her shoulders as if she heard nothing.
The man Jake subdued groaned and looked around through unfocused eyes, as a trickle of blood ran down his forehead. He wriggled violently back and forth in a vain attempt to free his hands from the zip-ties.
Jake knelt down and applied pressure points to the man’s neck. The thug was unconscious again in a matter of seconds.
“Jake is at the entry door,” Doc said to Licia.
“Wish me luck.”
“I’ll pray to God for your safety,” Licia replied.
Doc paused before answering, “Thank you. This isn’t my usual line of work, so a little divine intervention would be appreciated.”
***
Chapter Twelve
Side Street, Two Miles From The NSA Complex
“I require more direction than ‘hang in there,’” Justin spoke into the secure phone. “The attack this morning immensely impedes my usefulness. Random security checks have been instituted, as well as a virtual lock-down during the workday. I had to simulate a migraine and take sick leave to get out of the building.”
“They’re reacting by the book,” the faceless controller replied. “It’ll ease up after a while. Take today and tomorrow off. Go back to work in a few days and everything will be back to normal.”
“I sincerely doubt normal will return anytime soon. A level of paranoia in the building exists far beyond what I have ever seen.”
“In you, or in them?”
“It matters not, and would not exist, absent the bumbling assassins you sent….”
“Who says I sent them?”
“I assumed you did.”
“Don’t assume, pal. Like I said, go home, and calm down. Go back to work in a few days, and get the information I need.”
“What are the consequences if I do not?”
“Take my word for it, you don’t want to go there.”
“You are correct, I do not wish to ‘go there.’ I shall rest and return to my usual routine day after tomorrow.”
“I’m glad you understand who’s in charge.”
Office Of The NSA Director
John Banner motioned his secretary to the burgundy leather couch across from a matching easy chair. “Relax, Marge, I didn’t ask you in to chew you out. It’s not my style. Besides, you’re more familiar with security protocol than anybody in the agency.”
“That’s what frustrates me, Director.” Marge stopped addressing him as John, or Mister Banner a few weeks before. “I followed procedures to the letter, and the paperwork looked so authentic.”
“I’m sure it did,” Banner said in a soothing tone. “These assassins are consummate professionals with a high level of support, including legitimate-looking IDs, uniforms, and passes. They were also aware the regular service technician would be absent, and may have arranged it. Still, they appear to be foot soldiers. Finding their employers will be the challenge. Do you remember anything out of the ordinary the past few weeks?”
“You mean like strange men skulking about, or going through desk drawers?”
“It may not have been obvious. A real mastermind wouldn’t risk being caught on camera, or remembered by a guard. No, I meant unusual phone conversations or computer messages.”
Marge twisted an old-fashioned lace handkerchief she held in her lap. “There were phone calls I didn’t bring to your attention because they seemed so routine and unimportant. They were testing the messaging server for bugs….”
John kept his voice steady, “They? Did they identify themselves?”
“Of course. A man who works on the IT desk called a few weeks ago to ask for help with a program to detect intrusion attempts. He asked me to send
nonsensical unclassified messages.”
“How many did you send?”
“I don’t remember for sure, four or five, I think. They were meaningless and so routine I didn’t give it much thought.”
“He was on the phone when you sent them?”
Marge put the lace hankie in a pocket of her pale blue cardigan sweater. “He said he had to track the messages while we talked. Am I an accomplice to a breach of security?”
“Not that I can see, Marge. Sounds like a normal systems test. I’ll look into it, but don’t worry. Has there been anything else unusual about the service technicians?”
A frown formed on Marge’s face. “Jason, a heating repairman, hasn’t been himself the last few months.”
“In what way?”
“More bored than usual.” Marge leaned forward until their faces were only a foot apart. “I’m not the sort to gossip, Director. “I pride myself on my professionalism. Still, with what has happened, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the drinking.”
“Jason was drinking on the job?”
“I never saw him take a drink, but I could smell it on his breath. He works for a contractor, so I didn’t report it. Could a nice young man like him be part of the attack? Should I have told you?”
“Who knows? This isn’t the time for second-guessing or Monday-morning quarterbacking. I’ll look into it without bringing up your name.”
Marge sat up straighter. “Then what I’ve heard is true, you do protect your workers.”
“Whenever I can, and when they deserve it. Now, back to the grindstone to see if we can identify who is behind the attack.”
John stood, and Marge followed his lead. “Thank you, Director.”
“You’re welcome. Would you please contact members of the Security Committee and have them meet me in the command post at three? Level One Security, so tell them not to mention it to anybody, not even their closest staff. We have a leak, and I don’t want the whole world finding out.”
“Yes, Director, and thank you, again.”
John watched Marge close the door behind her. He triggered the electric dead bolts and reached for a secure telephone.
Escape Tunnel, Marston Home
“You girls stay in the tunnel until things are under control,” Doc said over his shoulder as he sat at the security terminal.
“What do we do if something goes wrong?” Licia asked.
“It won’t, with Jake and me against one guy. I triggered a silent alarm, so help should be on the way. Wait here until one of us comes for you, or until law enforcement arrives. Understood?”
“Whatever, but don’t take too long. Star’s face is white as a sheet, her lower lip is trembling, and her eyes are glazed over. I think she’s going into shock.” Licia walked over to her friend. “You going to be okay, Star?”
Star stared straight ahead without replying and shook from head to toe. Licia hugged the frighte
ned girl until she calmed down. “Help will be here real soon, Star-baby. Then, we’ll get back to skiing. Sound good?”
Star slowly nodded. “Don’t care about skiing anymore…just want my mom.” “Soon, I promise.”
Naval Medical Center, Bethesda, Maryland
“How is he?” John Banner asked Nora Winfield in a deep voice barely above a whisper. Quiet beeps from life-sign monitors and the whir of a respirator provided steady background noises in the semi-darkened room. An antiseptic smell clung to everything.
“As well as can be expected, considering he was shot in the head. They removed the bullet and put him in a medically-induced coma to speed the healing process. I’m waiting for them to move him from Recovery to Critical Care ICU. Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Nora, I, uh, hope you realize I had no way to know this would happen…would not have asked you two to move here….”
“Whoa, slow down there, Boss. Are you blaming yourself for Bart getting shot?”
“I wanted to help, but the utility room was crowded…two of them…I was the one who asked
Bart…”
“You’re beginning to scare me, John.”
“Scare you, how?”
“You sound like you’re questioning your ability to lead. Everything can go to pieces in an instant in this business, no matter how well you plan. Anything can happen, no matter how good the agent is. It’s the nature of the beast.”
“Yes, but I put him there.”
“And he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Bart needs to be right square in the middle of the fight. It’s the way he’s wired. Two inches either way and he’d either be dead or a hero. The desire to serve beats strong in the heart of a topnotch operative like him.”
“Could I include that in my report? It’s the most inspirational thing I’ve heard today.”
“As long as you don’t use it in his eulogy,” Nora softly replied.
“I hope that won’t be necessary for many years. The good Lord willing, and with the best medical care in the world, he’ll be back on his feet in no time.” Nora was silent as a tear ran down her cheek.