Search and Destroy

by JT Sawyer

  Cal drove under the procession of ancient red oak trees that lined the driveway on either side, reminding him of the historic plantations he’d seen in the Deep South.

  Burke’s three-story estate was elegant and fitting for the genius billionaire, with thirty acres of groomed gardens, a horse stable, and a barn surrounding the 11,000 square-foot home that could house a small village. Complete with a solarium, nine guest bedrooms, salt and freshwater pools, and a vaulted conference room with chandeliers, the place made Cal feel like he was in a castle in the Swiss Alps.

  But the most stunning room in the entire estate and the one that Cal always gravitated to during their corporate retreats was the library at the south end of the house. The cherry-wood bookcases extended from floor to ceiling and were high enough to require a rolling staircase to reach the farthest shelves.

  Many of the books were first editions bound in leather. On more than one occasion, Cal took up residence on one of the leather couches, losing himself in the pages of a translated edition of The Aeneid or The Upanishads while enveloped in the solitude of the cathedral-like chamber.

  He heard his phone ring, pausing to see Cassie’s face on the screen. He slowed his vehicle, coming to a halt beside a white catering van whose staff were placing their empty trays in the rear. He saw around twenty other familiar vehicles from Burke Corporation parked in the half-moon driveway before the front entrance of the mansion forty yards distant.

  “Hey, I just got here, and have your pies in hand.”

  “Great. We’re all upstairs in the living room. You know, the second of his three living rooms near the billiards room.”

  “Yeah, I’ll grab a map on my way in.”

  “Hurry, he’s been waiting for you…wants to make a speech now that everyone’s here.”

  Cal exited the jeep. He balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear as he tried to multitask, motioning to Reggie near the door to come help him with the pies.

  “Oh, there you are,” she said, waving to him from the second-floor parapet, whose balcony was lined with posies and jasmine flowers.

  “God, how did you go from being so beautiful this afternoon to absolutely stunning this evening?”

  “There you go again, Mr. Charmer. You clean up pretty nice yourself. Now, get up here.”

  Reggie trotted up beside him, a weary expression on his face, and Cal wondered if the man was really that out of shape or just exhausted from another long day of work. “Grab these two and I’ll get the rest,” he said, handing off the boxes to the refrigerator-wide man, who lumbered back up the driveway. He set his phone down, grabbing the bouquet of flowers for Burke’s wife then juggling the pies.

  Cal saw the four caterers stow the rest of their belongings then climb into the van. The lanky driver with a tan complexion and goatee walked by him, not making eye contact, while an older man with a similar complexion got into the passenger’s seat. Cal noticed a slight limp on the driver before he got into the van, then saw the hint of the pseudo-flesh color of a prosthetic beneath his left pant leg. On his left forearm was the faded tattoo of a large black ant.

  Cal slammed the door of his jeep with his foot as the catering van sped off. He tottered along the drive, keeping his eyes on the alignment of the boxes while clutching the flowers, then suddenly stopped when he heard his phone ring, realizing he’d left it on the passenger’s seat.

  Slowly turning, he retraced his steps, opening the door and seeing it was Patterson calling.

  Cassie yelled at him from the balcony. “Hey, are you getting cold feet or what?”

  He smiled, waving at her again, and a split second later the windows on the north side suddenly erupted, sending thousands of crystalline projectiles across the lawn. The air compressed and flames burst through the windows and doors on each level of the main house, sending tile and wood splinters in every direction. The percussive force of the massive explosion knocked Cal back onto the grass. It felt like a wrecking ball had slammed into his chest, the shockwave rippling through him as if a Predator had just sent its payload into the building.

  He yelled for Cassie, but the place where she was just standing was gone. There was nothing but a heap of rubble and shattered wooden beams.

  “No!” He fought to stand up, his head throbbing.

  Cal started to bolt past his jeep, the windshield shattering from another explosion in the center of the estate, slamming him into the side of his vehicle, his head careening against the edge. He slid to the ground, watching as a truck-sized hole punched through the roof of the building, bellowing out a plume of orange-and-gray smoke as the structure became engulfed with flames.

  He reached his hand up towards the balcony where Cassie had called to him moments ago, his vision blurring as he collapsed back onto the pavement.

  5

  A smooth ceiling of white interspersed with red flashing lights appeared in Cal’s vision, and his eyes struggled to focus as he came to inside an ambulance. His chest felt like a sack of rocks was holding him down, and his breathing was raspy, with a heavy odor of smoke permeating his nose.

  “He’s coming around,” said a husky voice to the right.

  Cal’s entire body felt like it had been dragged over a jagged cliff as pain shot through his head and limbs. He fluttered his eyes, his vision becoming less blurry as he stared up at a man in a blue jacket with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

  His first thought was to race into the house to look for survivors, bolting up the stairs to the second floor to search for Cassie.

  She has to be alive…somehow.

  The sinking feeling in his gut told him otherwise. He propped himself up on one elbow, staring out the open back of the ambulance and watching a sea of firefighters near the half-dozen rigs attempting to quell the engulfed estate in the distance.

  “Can you tell me your name, sir?”

  He shoved the medic’s hand aside, trying to get off the gurney, but the throbbing in his forehead caused him to careen against the handrail.

  The paramedic clutched his arm, easing him back down. “Hang tight there, buddy. Our guys on the ground out there are doing what they can, but you need to help me do my job in here, alright.” He moved in closer, glancing back and forth between Cal’s eyes. “Can you tell me your name, sir?”

  He sucked in a deep breath, his bruised ribs reminding him to inhale slowly. “Cal…Cal Shepard. I worked with Stephen Burke.” The words seemed stuck in his throat.

  “Can you tell me where you are right now?”

  “I’m watching my friend’s fucking house burn to the ground with everyone that I love inside, that’s where I’m at.” He shot a weary look at the man, knowing he was just asking questions to determine his level of consciousness, as combat medics did to those suffering from a battlefield explosion, but he had no time for it.

  “You need to stay still for a bit, sir. You suffered a pretty nasty head injury,” said the paramedic, gently putting his gloved hand on Cal’s chest.

  He shoved it aside again, yanking the IV line from his forearm and swinging his legs off the gurney as he struggled to sit upright. “My wife is in there, goddammit…and my friends.”

  Another medic stepped around the opening from the side, blocking the way. He pointed to the ambulance beside them. “Only one other person made it out. I’m sorry.” The senior paramedic glanced back over his shoulder at the blaze a half-mile distant. “No one else inside had a chance. By the time we all got here, that house was engulfed.”

  Cal’s eyes darted along the manicured law, whose flawless appearance was in such stark contrast to the devastation beyond it.

  But I just saw her on the porch. She was waving to me.

  He averted his eyes, glancing at the other ambulance, hoping to see Cassie lying inside, alive, but he only saw a hulking figure on the gurney.

  “Reggie.” Cal tried to clear his foggy brain, recalling the security guard heading inside with some of the pies. He survived?

  “We g
ot him out from the rubble under the front entrance,” said the senior medic as he closed the doors of the other ambulance to shield Reggie from sight. “That steel archway over the doors saved his life before the whole first floor collapsed.”

  “There were no other survivors…are you sure?” Cal snapped, stepping out of the bay and down onto the pavement. “Maybe around the back side.”

  “Sir, there is no back side. The woods behind the estate caught fire and are being brought under control by our crews on the road to the east. All of the other homes in this region are at risk if we don’t get this contained.”

  A few seconds later, he heard the familiar hum of rotor wash as a helicopter encircled the estate while the ground crews pulled back. The bird moved in closer, releasing a red slurry of fire retardant from an immense canvas bucket beneath the fuselage.

  It quenched a large portion of the flames emanating from the rear of the building and the woods as the firefighters trotted back to their former positions to continue hosing down the exterior walls and entrances. Another helicopter arrived and bombarded the wooded hillside to the east, coating the flame-riddled maples and beech trees and halting the further spread of destruction.

  Cal pushed past the two men, moving up to the small window at the rear of Reggie’s ambulance.

  “He gonna make it?”

  “He’s stable for now.” The paramedic gently put his hand on Cal’s shoulder, motioning him to move back as he closed the doors. “We’re getting him to the hospital. You should get there too. You were pretty unresponsive when we arrived and could have some after-effects from the concussion.”

  He turned around, staring at the smoldering building and the firefighters moving to douse the south end of the estate near where Burke’s lavish library had been.

  “I’ve had worse. I’ll be alright.”

  “Anyone we can call for you, sir?” said the younger medic.

  He stared at where the parapet had been, his face feeling frostbitten despite the intense heat in the air.

  He felt like his soul had been incinerated along with the house.

  “Call? There is no one…no one left.”

  6

  The senior paramedic motioned towards the police officer near his vehicle who had just finished talking on his radio. The sergeant came over, looking at Cal, who was covered in soot and lacerations.

  The medic pulled the officer aside. “Said he worked for the owner of the place. Burke as in Stephen Burke, the computer whiz.” He nodded at Cal, who was just within earshot. “Pretty banged up but doesn’t appear to have too serious a concussion. He refused to be taken to the hospital. Still, you’ll want to keep an eye on him.” The medic stepped closer to the officer. “His wife was one of the people inside.”

  Cal heard the words as if he was listening to a radio intercept from another land as his stomach roiled.

  “Her name was Cassie. Cassie Shepard,” he mumbled, his lips trembling as he stood transfixed by the wrecked home. “She was going to be…be a mom in a few months.”

  The two first responders glanced at each other then at Cal. Finally, the officer moved beside him.

  “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, sir. Why don’t you come with me and you can sit down inside my vehicle. There are a few questions I need to run through, then we can look at getting you…home…or wherever you need to be.”

  He put his hand on Cal’s shoulder to keep him steady as they walked to the police cruiser.

  “Do you have any family we can call, sir?”

  “No, no, I don’t.” He thought of Cassie’s sister, Sara, who lived north of Atlanta as he tried to wrap his head around the conversation he suddenly realized he’d have to have about Cassie’s death.

  Approaching headlights caused him to squint as a green Land Rover pulled up next to the police car. Out stepped Neil Patterson, who paused to stare at the scene of destruction in the distance then briskly walked up to Cal.

  “I came as soon as I heard. Are you alright?” his old boss said, glancing over his shoulder as the ambulance with Reggie in it drove off.

  “Are you family, sir?” said the officer.

  “He is,” replied Cal.

  The closest thing to family I have left now.

  7

  After what seemed like hours recounting the evening’s events to the police officer, Cal reluctantly left the property with Patterson.

  The woman he loved and the life he had tried to build was gone in minutes in a searing cloud of death and destruction. We were supposed to be holding hands and toasting Burke and my friends. How can they all be dead?

  Cal barely noticed the drive back, his weary eyes staring at the inky countryside until it transitioned to a blur of headlights and city streets bustling with pedestrians enjoying their night out on the town. Patterson remained silent for most of the drive, which Cal appreciated.

  As they came to the first red light, his old boss leaned on the steering wheel with both hands, glancing at him.

  “Did you speak with Burke after he left his meeting at the Pentagon this afternoon?” said Patterson.

  “No, he and I were going to catch up on things at the party. He said there was something about Venezuela he wanted to talk to me about.”

  “Related to Perseus?”

  Cal nodded.

  Patterson headed straight through the green light, driving past a strip mall then south into the suburbs.

  “The same call I received from my contact at the Arlington police about the explosion at Burke’s place also informed me of a physical breach at Burke’s corporate building downtown a few hours ago. The mainframe for Perseus was stolen.”

  Cal balled his fist. “A tactical strike, but by whom?”

  “We will find the individuals behind this, I assure you.”

  “What did Burke discuss with you and the sec-def at the meeting? Could it be connected with this?”

  “It’s possible. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

  Cal felt like Patterson was keeping something from him, but he didn’t have the energy to concentrate on anything right now, and each bump in the road just made his head feel like someone had buried an ax in it.

  Patterson wound his way down several side streets and past a church that Cal and Cassie frequented. He remembered talking about the playground there and how fun it would be to take their daughter on the swings when she was older.

  “You can crash at my place tonight if you want. I already told Helen you might. Plus, with all that’s gone down today, I’d feel a lot better if you were under my roof rather than sitting alone at your house.”

  “It’s fine, thanks. My place is like a mini fortress anyway.”

  “Well, I figured you would say that. Call if you need anything, my friend…day or night.”

  “Copy that.”

  Patterson turned down the elm-lined street, driving to the two-story house at the end of the cul-de-sac. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow. And at some point in the next day or so, we need to debrief further about Perseus and Burke.” He parked in the driveway, scanning between the homes on either side. “I’m truly sorry, Cal. Cassie was like family to me.”

  “I know.”

  Patterson unbuckled, turning off the engine then reaching for his door. “I appreciate you driving me, but I don’t need any company right now,” said Cal, who was already exiting the car.

  “I’ll check in with you tomorrow then.”

  He nodded then stepped from the vehicle and trudged across the empty lawn, his ears still ringing from the explosion.

  His legs felt like wooden stilts as he walked up the steps to the front porch of his two-story home. Turning the key in the deadbolt, he half-anticipated smelling the pleasant aroma of his wife’s amazing pasta dish brewing on the stove and the sound of the Gypsy Kings playing on the speakers.

  Instead, the air felt stale, and the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator. He turned back, waving off Patterson, who was linger
ing in the street.

  Cal closed the door then turned on the dining room light, walking to the elongated countertop that extended out beyond the kitchen and leaning his hands on the tawny Formica as he stared out the rear window into the yard. In the moonlight, he could see the two empty wine goblets from the night before on the small wrought-iron table, and he could hear Cassie’s voice as she bubbled with excitement about the latest ultrasound.

  Cal wanted to thrust his arms through the window and reach back through the sands of time to hold her, his ribs compressing as tears formed in his eyes.

  How can she be gone?

  And my daughter…the girl…the woman I’ll never know.

  He could barely bring himself to look down the hallway towards the nursery that he and Cassie had been working on, the walls half-painted in birthday candle pink.

  How can this be happening?

  His mind tried to navigate through the geography of grief, but the logical portion of his brain was mired in an anguish he’d never fathomed before. He had lost colleagues and brothers-in-arms before under harrowing conditions, but it was always overseas in a war-torn region during the line of duty.

  Not back home.

  Not while walking up to a friend’s house.

  Not outside the sleepy suburbs on the East Coast.

  Cal stood paralyzed for what felt like hours, alternating between staring at the empty downstairs rooms, the backyard and the silent wedding photo on the wall to his right.

  When he’d had enough and could barely stand, he went into the bathroom and removed his soiled clothing then took a shower. The sting of the water along the many tiny lacerations on his face and neck barely registered.