Jackson whispered. “Dead. Everyone’s dead. Payne and Jones killed them all. Theo and I showed up one minute behind the guards, and we found corpses. Thirteen fuckin’ corpses. Blood everywhere. No sign of the prisoners, but our guys are dead!”
“You’re sure.”
Jackson kicked one of the men in front of him. He didn’t move. “Yep.”
Holmes felt his pulse quicken and noticed the hairs on his arms stand at attention. Thirteen kills in less than ten minutes. My lord, these guys
were
good. “What did they use for weapons?”
“Guns,” Jackson answered. “I don’t know what kind, but they have rapid-fire capability. I don’t see any shells near the guards, so I guess they didn’t have time to fire back.”
“Where the hell did they get weapons like-”
Holmes stopped before he finished his statement. Nervously, he glanced at the cabin on the far end of the row. The door looked closed from a distance, but there was only one way to know for sure.
“Guards!” he shouted. Two men left the burning cabin and ran to his side. “Check the armory and tell me if anything’s missing!”
The men saluted crisply, then ran off.
As he watched them approach the storage shed, Holmes felt the tension rise in his body. If Payne and Jones had located the artillery, there was a good chance that they’d stolen enough equipment to wipe out the entire island. Instead of seizing the Plantation one guard at a time, they could do it one acre at a time.
Within seconds, the guards reached the cabin and studied the partially opened door. The armory had been violated. Drawing their weapons, the two men kicked the door aside and prepared to fire at the perpetrators. It was the last move they would ever make. Because of their inexperience, the men failed to notice the wire that had been tied to the base of the door. When they bumped the cord, it triggered a fragmentation grenade, which exploded in their faces. The fragger, designed to launch razorlike pieces of metal over an extended area of space without the impact of a large explosion, tattered the men with shrapnel, killing both men instantly.
Holmes grimaced as he heard the muffled blast, followed by the guards’ silence. The sounds proved what he already knew in his gut. The Plantation’s artillery had been compromised.
“Damn!” he muttered.
He wasn’t the least bit concerned about his men, but he was worried about the missing weapons. It was going to make his job much harder to accomplish.
He grabbed his radio once again. “Harris? Theo? Are you there?”
“What do you need?” Jackson whispered. He was walking through the trees with Webster, trying not to make a sound. “We’re on our way back now.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Not to alarm you, but Payne and Jones got into Terrell’s gear. There’s no telling what other surprises they have in store for us.”
“What do you mean by surprises?”
“I don’t know,” Holmes admitted. He still needed to get someone inside of the armory to check the inventory. “Land mines, flame throwers, grenades, rocket launchers. Shit, they could have anything.”
Without responding, Jackson and Webster increased their stride significantly.
CHAPTER 47
WHEN
Greene saw the site of the explosion, it hit him like a punch in the gut. It was Jones’s cabin, and there was nothing left of it. The wooden frame had collapsed, succumbing to the intense heat of the fire. Debris, spread from the power of the initial blast, littered the manicured yard. Clouds of smoke lingered in the air, making it tough to breathe or even see.
“Damn,” he muttered as he removed his mask and cloak. “This can’t be good.”
Holmes, Jackson, and Webster saw Greene’s approach and rushed to his side. Before they even said a word, Greene tried to assess the severity of the situation but was unable to do so because of their wide range of emotions. Holmes had the cold glare of a terrorist. Blank face, intense eyes, neither a frown nor a smile on his lips. He had seen this type of shit before and wasn’t fazed by it. Jackson, though not as polished as Holmes, was still under control. His eyes showed some concern, like a sick man waiting for test results in a hospital, but he did his best to mask it with a broad grin. This was his first combat, and overall, he was holding up well.
Then there was Webster. He was the complete opposite of the other two men. In fact, if he had been a horse, Elmer’s would’ve been negotiating for his glue rights. His face was pale and sweaty. His body trembled. And his eyes were as big as pancakes. If not for the tragic possibilities of the situation, Greene would’ve laughed at him.
Hell, he was tempted to do it anyway.
“Why are you here?” Webster asked. “Who’s watching the boat of prisoners?”
“Don’t worry about it. The passengers are chained and surrounded by water. They aren’t going anywhere.” Greene turned toward Holmes. He knew this was the man who would give him the facts he was looking for. “What happened?”
“Your friend blew up the cabin and managed to escape in the process.”
“Jones escaped? How is that possible? Where was Hakeem when this happened?” The three men looked at each other but didn’t respond. “Shit, where’s Hakeem now?”
Holmes shrugged. “We don’t know, but we’re assuming he’s dead. He’s been missing for quite some time, and Theo saw one of the prisoners with his set of keys. We figure that-”
“Prisoners?” Greene blurted. “Are we talking plural?”
Holmes nodded. “It seems your other friend, Payne, unlocked the cabin door before Jones blew it up. At least that’s what we’ve pieced together. Theo watched the escape from the house and thinks Jones made the bomb from his anklet.”
All eyes turned to Webster, who just stared at the flames in the distance.
Holmes shook his head at Webster’s high level of anxiety. “I’m still trying to figure out why they blew up the cabin. It just doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, why blow it up if you have a set of keys to get out quietly? Wouldn’t the explosion just draw attention to your escape?”
Greene considered the question. “Maybe that’s what they wanted. Maybe they blew the cabin up for attention. You know, draw us to this part of the Plantation for some reason.” He paused as he fleshed out the theory in his mind. “What were the other blasts I heard?”
“Actually,” Jackson answered, “you may be on to something there. Three charges were set off in the trees for just that purpose. Your friends lured thirteen of my guards to a spot in the woods, then waited for their arrival. When they showed up . . .” He finished his statement by running his thumb across the base of his throat in a slashing motion.
“They killed all thirteen?” Greene asked. “How the hell did they do that?”
Webster groaned, and Jackson cleared his throat. Neither of them wanted to tell Greene about the carnage they had witnessed. But Holmes didn’t mind talking. In fact, he wanted Greene to know what kind of trouble he’d brought to the island. “It seems our escapees aren’t your average, everyday army grunts. These are two very talented men, special forces plus.”
Greene furrowed his brow. “Special forces plus? What does that mean?”
“It means that they’re the best. They’re capable of doing anything they want.”
“Anything?” said a doubtful Greene. He’d fought Jones a few hours before, and his opponent barely put up a fight. He certainly didn’t think of him as a killer. “Come on, they’re just men! Two injured men! How tough can they be?”
“You don’t understand. I’ve known about the MANIACs for a very long time. These guys aren’t human. They’re machines. Military supermen.”
“Get real!” Greene laughed. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating just a little bit?”
Holmes’s face finally showed some emotion-not much, just a slight flare-up in his eyes. “Exaggerating? They slipped out of bondage, located Terrell’s armory, stole a shitload of weapons, killed thirteen guard
s in the woods and two with a booby trap, then mysteriously disappeared into the night. Now you tell me, do these guys sound normal to you?”
Greene took a deep breath. He didn’t want to admit it, but from Holmes’s description it did seem like Payne and Jones were pretty talented. Hell, he’d underestimated them at Sam’s Tattoos and they had escaped. Maybe these guys
were
something to worry about.
“So, they’re still out there, huh?”
“Yeah,” Holmes answered. “They’re still on the loose, doing God knows what.”
“And what about Payne’s girlfriend? Where’s she? She’s our insurance policy, you know.”
Holmes turned toward Jackson. “Didn’t you have her in your possession?”
“She’s in the guest bedroom. I left her tied to the bed.”
“Jesus!” Greene growled. “You left her in the house this entire time by herself, and you didn’t say anything! She’s what they want!”
The thought of Ariane’s escape made Greene tense with fear. She was his best chance at safety, and he knew it. As long as he had her, he had lots of bargaining power.
“We better get the bitch before they find her. If we lose her, we’re in deep shit.”
Holmes nodded in agreement. “I’ll come with you, Levon. I think we should bring the young blonde out of the house as well. The less spread out we are, the better.”
WITH
a hollow reed in his mouth and a bag on his shoulder, Payne took a breath of fresh air and slipped into the warm water of the gulf. He wouldn’t have to swim far, but the distance he’d travel would be done underwater in complete darkness, so the reed would guarantee a supply of oxygen if he needed it.
Using his hands as his only guide, Payne swam blindly through the intricate web of wooden poles that supported the western dock, making his way toward the heavily guarded boat. After circumnavigating the bow, he breathed through his reed and continued forward, hugging the underbelly of the ship as he successfully wove through a series of ropes before he emerged along the edge of the stern.
The toughest part was over. He was where he needed to be.
WHILE peering through the scope of his Heckler amp; Koch PSG1 semiautomatic sniper rifle, Jones swung his gun from side to side, searching for targets. He found several. It was a good thing that his weapon offered a deadly combination of precision and speed, or he wouldn’t have a chance against so many men. And if he failed to complete his mission, Payne would probably die.
Thankfully, he had plenty of experience dealing with pressure.
The first blast echoed in the night as the bullet struck the guard. His skull exploded in a mixture of blood, brain, and bone. Before the victim’s partners could react, Jones lined up his second target and repeated his performance.
Another shot. Another corpse. Blood everywhere.
Shot three eliminated one more guard. Shot four did the same.
And for some reason, the guards weren’t hiding. They just stood there, scanning the trees for the source of the gunfire, hoping to see the discharge in the distant night. Jones couldn’t believe his luck and their stupidity, but he was going to take advantage of both while they lasted.
“Adios.”
Guard five, killed.
“Sayonara.”
Guard six, dead.
If he’d had the chance, Jones would’ve continued shooting all night, but a few of the guards finally wised up and dashed into the woods to find him. That was his cue to leave. Before he departed, though, Jones blasted a few shots into the water-his signal for Payne to begin-then slipped deeper into the trees for safety.
He had done his part. Now it was up to his partner.
AND
Payne was ready.
He’d been waiting for several seconds in the water, trying to remain completely silent near the stern, but now that Jones had signaled him, he knew he could spring into action. Using a rope that hung from the deck, Payne quickly scaled the back edge of the ship. He slipped his hand into his shoulder bag and grabbed his Glock. The powerful handgun, fitted with a silencer and a full clip of ammo, would allow him to kill with stealth. And that was crucial. He couldn’t risk drawing attention to himself before he had a chance to leave the area.
As water dripped off his damp clothes, Payne crept around the small boat, looking for the enemy. One stood by the instrument panel, his back facing the water. Another rested by the bow. And neither sensed the presence sneaking up behind them.
Pffft! the Glock whispered.
Pffft! Pffft! Both men were dead.
The prisoners saw the guards fall and immediately turned toward the sound of the muffled gunshots. Payne, covered in slime and water, raised his finger to his lips to silence them.
“I’m one of the good guys,” he whispered.
Ten mouths dropped in wonderment. They couldn’t believe that someone had found them.
“Are there any other guards on board?”
Ten people shook their heads in unison before a masculine voice rose from the back of the crowd. “Jon? Is that you?”
The sound of Payne’s name made his heart leap. He realized it wasn’t Ariane-the voice was too deep to be hers-but the question meant someone else on board knew him. But who? He frantically searched through the faces, looking for the source of the sound, but couldn’t figure it out until the man spoke again.
“Jon Payne?”
Payne nodded and moved closer to the man, desperately trying to recognize him, but the guy’s battered appearance made it difficult. Bruises covered his face and neck. Blood and dirt covered everything else. A makeshift splint was tied to his leg. “Do I know . . . Robbie?”
Robert Edwards, Ariane’s brother-in-law, nodded his head with joy. He tried to stand up, but his ankle prevented it. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Yeah, it’s me,” he gasped. The reunion with Edwards was so unexpected that Payne didn’t know what else to say. “What are you doing here?”
“I was kidnapped. We were all kidnapped.” Edwards clutched Payne’s hand to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “And what about you? What are you doing here?”
“I heard the island served a nice buffet.” Joking was the only way he could reel his emotions back to where they needed to be. “Actually, I’m searching for Ariane. Is she here?”
Edwards nodded. “Not on the boat, but somewhere on the island. I haven’t seen her today, though.” He took a deep breath of air. “I haven’t seen Tonya, either. I hope to God she’s all right. The baby, too.”
Payne winced. He had no idea that Ariane’s entire family was on the Plantation. What kind of bastards would drag a family, one with a pregnant woman, into this type of situation?
“Do you have any idea where they are?”
“I don’t know,” he sobbed. “They might be in the cabins, but I don’t know.”
“No, they aren’t. I already checked there.” Payne glanced at the other nine slaves. “Does anyone know where the others are?”
All of the prisoners shook their heads.
“Damn!” He had hoped that someone would be able to direct him to Ariane, but it was obvious that the two groups had been kept apart. “One last question, can you tell me how many captives I should be looking for?”
Edwards shrugged. “Ten, maybe more. They rotated us around quite a bit.”
“Okay, I’ll take it from here. But before I leave, I’d like to make a small suggestion. Why don’t you guys go home? Does that sound all right to you?”
Ten sets of eyes got misty.
Payne continued, “Before you can leave, we need to get rid of those bombs on your legs.”
“But how?” shrieked one of the women. “The lead guard said they would explode if we tried to take them off. He said all of them would burst, one after another.”
“And he was right. They would’ve exploded if you pried them off.” Payne reached into his shoulder bag and retrieved Ndjai’s keys. “That’s why
we’ll use this instead.”
The lady smiled in gratitude as he handed her the anklet key.
“Carefully remove the bombs, then place them gently in this bag when you’re done.”
While waiting for the bag to be filled, Payne walked over to the boat’s instrument panel, assuming that he’d have to hot-wire it. He was pleasantly surprised to see a key in the ignition. “Hey, Robbie, how are your navigational skills? Are you any good?”
“Not too bad. I’ve taken you water skiing a few times, remember?”
Payne should’ve remembered. He and Ariane had visited Edwards in Colorado on more than one occasion. “That’s right. Good, then I’m making you the captain.” He placed his arm around the injured man and helped him to the wheel. “I want you to pull out of here very slowly.”
“Slowly?” called out one of the kids. “Why slowly?”
Payne didn’t have time to explain, but he knew he’d better do it anyway. The last thing he needed was a mutiny on the escape vessel.
“The area around the island is surrounded by fallen trees. It’s a pretty thick swamp, clogged with all kinds of logs. If he goes too fast and hits one, the boat could sink.” He smiled for the child’s benefit. “And that would be bad.”
The kid nodded his head in agreement.
Payne turned back to Edwards. “When you steer, make sure you have some people looking out into the water. They can help you avoid some of the larger obstacles. Got it?”
“Jon, I want to help,” he assured him. “But Tonya is still here. I’m not going anywhere without her.”
“Trust me,” Payne said, “I’d feel the same way if I were you. But with your injury, you’re in no shape to fight. Hell, you’re not even in shape to walk. So I need you to stay on this boat and help all of these people get to safety. If you do that for me, I’ll do everything in my power to rescue your wife. . . . Okay?”
Edwards nodded reluctantly. “What should I do when we get to the sea? Do you have backup waiting for us?”
“No, there’s no backup. It’s just me and my partner on this mission, no one else.”
The looks on the prisoners’ faces said it all. They couldn’t believe that Payne and Jones had done so much-and risked so much-on their own.
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