by Paul Bagnell
Chapter 20: I’M WATCHING YOU
Outside Voyid’s immodest Gothic estate, there was a weak breeze that carried a scent of southern drift smoke. Tom looked into the star-spangled sky and ingested the distasteful lump of uncertainty that was festering in his knotted throat.
McBridle’s vehicle had been moved. He noticed that it was now parked near the large six-car garage and capped with a blue plastic tarp.
“Over here,” Keylu called and snapped her pointy fingers with a female overbearingness (intended to attract his stalled attentiveness) as she leaned against the black racer with the special box resting on the soft-top. She got into the high-powered machine and set the bundle behind the racing seats. She revved the performance-enhanced engine with a manlike foot while she waited for Tom to hop into launch position; then she flattened the accelerator to the floor and rocketed toward the closed gate. She activated an onboard switch customized into the fast shifter; the gate began to open slowly.
Tom thought that at this speed and distance they might not be able to avoid a messy crash, but they narrowly escaped with an inch of clearance on each side of the freshly waxed aerodynamic doors. They shot out of the gate to the quiet street, where Keylu tore into the path of an oncoming limo as if it were a brave game of dumb chicken.
“You little brat; stay off the road you bloody-hell kid,” the driver squealed and sung his over embellished cattle horn. The limo driver swerved to escape an ugly fender entanglement and nearly drove off into the side trees.
Tom suppressed his inflamed temper as he strapped on the safety harness. “What’s with the crazy schoolgirl driving?” he yelled over the engine’s roar.
“That’s my good neighbour. I have a throttle fetish for the British limo driver. Things wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t pull that stunt whenever possible,” Keylu said as she glanced at Tom for a split-second and gave him a wink, “if you know what I mean. Also, I wanted to see what type of verbal response my stunt driving would produce from a paper-pushing wimp like you,” she said playfully.
“Well you saw it,” his face was undaunted, “so I don’t expect that stupid prank again.”
She smiled in his direction and asked, “Your vehicle--how’d it get slammed up?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious; so how did it?”
“I sideswiped a brick shit-house last night,” Tom replied.
“You got an awful sense of bad humour, but I like it. It shows that you’re a man of emotional depth and unusual sincerity when in the presence of a real lady.”
“Yeah, I make them laugh by the full pound of rump.”
She switched gears. “I’m just assuming that the vehicle you came here in is the same vehicle you fled from Samuel Carravecky’s murder?”
“You assumed correctly.”
“I’m sure Ckecko will take care of that problem. He’ll have it dumped or maybe crushed into a block of metal and melted down for tin cans.”
Tom looked over at her. He couldn’t believe what nonsense he was hearing.
“We’re just protecting you, you know. If anyone comes snooping around looking for clues, they won’t find anything,” she said.
“He better not touch the car if he knows what’s good for him,” Tom replied harshly.
She accelerated. “I’m such a bad girl.”
“What’s that mean?” he replied confused.
“I lied,” she glanced at him with her big, bright, brown eyes and confessed. “The arrangements are already confirmed. The car crusher is probably licking its chops while getting ready to chow down on German-made steel.”
Tom closed his eyes and imagined Ckecko transporting McBridle’s vehicle to a place where it would be squished into a metal bale and fed to a melting furnace.
“Don’t worry. If you live, I’m sure you’ll be able to replace it with another,” she said and laughed. “Let’s just say that if we’re successful, consider yourself free from any further financial torment.”
Tom couldn’t do anything about the matter so he mentally filed it away. “So, Keylu, where are we headed?” he inquired.
“Cradle-Top Mountain,” she replied with an eager voice.
The vehicle’s twelve cylinders pumped with an unlimited reserve of pure horsepower as she worked the racing pedal deeper into the floor. The wide tires howled as the custom machine gripped the road’s curves at high speed. Tom powered the window down an inch or so. He was feeling queasy and hoped the night air would revive him.
A road sign indicated CRADLE-TOP MOUNTAIN THREE MILES.
There was enough silence between them, and he thought he’d better become fully acquainted with her spiteful character if he were going into the danger zone with her so he’d better get to know more about her than just her first name. “So, Ckecko’s your boyfriend?”
Keylu looked at him before she replied, “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just making some friendly conversation.”
She smiled, “No, he’s my big brother.”
“Really, I don’t see any family resemblance.”
“Father adopted him when he was just a small child.”
“Oh, yeah,” Tom looked surprised.
“His mother was a drug addict who abandoned him. She overdosed and that was that. Father is always bringing home strays, helping a lot of needy good people. Don’t get the wrong impression about who we are and what we do.”
Tom felt as if he were playing into dangerously fragile territory and aborted that touchy discussion. “Ckecko really cares about you, maybe a little bit too much.”
She snapped, “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s obvious you’re able to handle yourself,” Tom said, as if complimenting her. “You got the tight moves and the cool groves and the brains to charm the devil out of his blow horn.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
“You help me, and I help you; together we come out winners and breathing.”
“That’s the way it should be; that is, if you don’t tinkle in your pants and run away with weepy eyes.”
Tom just looked out the window in response.
The road signs ahead warned to DRIVE CAREFULLY BEWARE FALLING ROCK. Farther up the mountain other signs indicated SLOPE INCREASING AVOID PASSING LIMITED VISIBILITY.
Leggy Douglas firs and Sitka spruce trees formed a roadside border fence. The area was grimly dark. Tom couldn’t think about anything other than delivering the package; and getting on with his restored sense of existence. Everything else was unimportant, even what Keylu said about McBridle’s scored vehicle.
He eyed Keylu. She was a sophisticated young woman. Her hair was silky soft and shiny yet she wasn’t your typical super-agent girl who stood out in a busy crowd. She seemed more like a college student and that worried him.
She reached under the seat and pulled out a well worn-in ball cap. She tucked her hair beneath it; then she reached behind the seat and handed Tom the package. “Place it between your feet; it’s now your responsibility.”
He reacted without questioning her loose authority and secured the technology between his clumsy boots.
“Protect it like it’s your life,” Keylu said. “If this device gets damaged, you’re over; and you’ll probably be registered behind bars by sunrise. Think of it as an organ ready for transplant.”
Tom powered the window closed. “This mountainous area seems like the untamed country so where are we headed now?”
“Octo Ridge,” she replied.
He looked surprised, “I don’t believe anyone goes there this time of the night.”
She powered her window halfway down. “Don’t be silly,” she replied; “we’re going there--to a place where the road ends. From there we’ll have to move fast to keep our appointment. That’s why I said that your footwear was mission appropriate.”
He didn’t want to dissect her rhymes, but his Nukyi intuitions were correct. It was goin
g to be a very long night. Cradle and Octo were exposed. He was beginning to understand the meaning of the four words on that tiny piece of paper, which indicated the secret location of Remmie Take’s camp; and the two remaining words must also be related to this astonishing campaign.
“Our mission entry point is just ahead,” Keylu indicated.
“Good. I’m getting seriously anxious.”
“That’s a positive sign.”
“I hope so.” Tom pressed his neck to the headrest and breathed off a panic attack.
There was another sign posted OCTO RIDGE STRAIGHT AHEAD.
Keylu decreased her speed. She was looking toward the trees.
Tom watched the speedometer drop from a hundred to thirty in a matter of seconds.
“There’s a trail somewhere around here,” she said. “Can you see it?”
“Yeah, over there,” Tom replied, as he pointed it out.
A “No Trespassing” sign with hit-and-run tire tracks spun all over it was barely visible. The tiny trail did not appear to be serviced by visitors in a very long time.
She crossed to the opposite lane and pulled into the bushy opening. The vehicle completely disappeared from sight.
Tom got out of the car; the doors automatically locked.
Keylu flipped her ball cap around. She held a set of goggles in her hand; then started up the path.
“Binoculars, you’ll never see anything with those primitive things,” Tom said complaisantly.
Keylu held them up to the moonlight and replied, “Government-issue. They look like a simple set of viewers, but they’re not. They’re equipped with motion focus, heat sensitivity, night vision, and something completely new.”
“What’s that?” he asked mystified.
“Sight enhancement, a valuable tool for the eyes,” she replied. “I could see a grain of salt being dashed from a salt shaker at five-thousand yards and even count the grains on the plate.”
Tom chuckled artificially; then he followed her into the thick brush.
Keylu used the device to see where she was tramping. Tom tagged close behind and relied on her accurate footsteps to guide him. “Where’re we headed now?” he asked when he became aware that the path they were travelling was a dead end.
Keylu stopped and flipped the goggles from her eyes. “There’s an abandoned forestry road above that cliff.” She pointed way up. “Once we get there, I’ll provide you with the appropriate details; until then, just chill.”
There was a two-hundred-foot elevation ahead of them. The rock face was smooth, worn by the natural elements of nature. Several underground streams seeped through the cracks and sustained a green mossy fungus, which would only complicate their climb. Straight up the rock was a daunting task, but this was the quickest way to the top.
Tom stared upward. “This is ridiculous; I can’t climb this rock monster,” he complained.
“There’s another way,” Keylu said, “but it’ll take about an hour or two; and we don’t have that luxury. Anyway, I suspect their site entrance would be littered with booby traps.” She noticed his objective expression. “Why? Are you afraid of heights?” (She nipped at his muscularity.)
“No, not at all,” Tom replied. “It’s the falling part that disturbs me.”
“As I said, there’s no other way so get with it.”
“I don’t like it, but I’ll live with it,” he said nervously concerned.
She started toward the rock and said, “There’s a deer trail at the top of the rock formation; it leads to the enemy. They’re using this locale as a temporary base. Once we’re there, we’ll be able to overlook their setup. If we’re unlucky, you’ll be able to say hello to your friend, Remmie Take.”
”Remmie’s a thug, not a friend,” Tom replied forcefully.
“Don’t tell that to him,” as she donned the goggles and moved onward. She stomped a path to the face of the rock and began to climb.
“Hurry up,” Keylu whispered as she scaled the wall. “We haven’t got much time left. We can’t be late.”
“Can’t be late for what?” Tom called silently and slipped the mission box inside his jacket. His fingers were planted deep in the wet crevasses. His feet fought the mossy fungus for a proper foothold and he struggled to keep up with the ambitious lady climber who was manoeuvring above him.
“A bullet ballet--what the hell else would I be talking about?” Keylu called downward once she was in a fixed body position; then she stepped up her spidery accent.
From the top of the climb, they immediately steered from the trail’s sight and occupied a vantage position where they could secretly view the mountain’s bald top. The trees had been harvested to form a circular clearing, which was fortified with coiled razor wire.
Two structures were stationed in the heart of the area. The first was a rectangular box that appeared to be a seventies' style mobile trailer, which obviously served as the sleeping barracks. It was completely deteriorated. Its long, narrow wooden framework was twisted and bent and unliveable. It appeared to be still on its original tires. The second structure, the shack, was a fair-size yet poorly constructed with crooked walls that appeared as if they were slapped together from old barn boards and roved with old rusty tin sheathing.
Several dim overhead security lamps illuminated Remmie’s campsite. The compound blended into the treed landscape as if it had been there for forty years.
“We’ve got to be careful because they probably have this sector under surveillance of some sort,” Keylu she as she snaked across the ground that overlooked the desolate base.
“Well! This is where our notoriously slippery terrorist is hiding,” Tom said as he crawled beside her.
“No! He enjoys the finest accommodations; he keeps his men here and out of the way,” she whispered. “Only yesterday we discovered where his camp is located. One of our agents sent word just before Remmie killed him with a lady’s shoe.”
The mobile motion detector’s security porch light was activated when two men garbed in special-ops gear went inside.
“They must have been on security rounds,” she whispered.
Tom couldn’t identify the men. He placed the box in front of his steamy breath. “Let me have a peek-a-boo.” He reached over and confiscated the special goggles from her and began to relay the details. “I see another two camouflaged soldiers hiding in the dark. They are scanning the compound perimeters and electronically checking the razor wire for possible breaks. They are communicating with funny hand signals. I see another soldier perched in a tree, smoking a cigar, and slinging his handgun as if practising for the Wild West. I guess he’s the comedian of the big bad bunch. I don’t see any others, but they’ll probably come out of the woodwork once I’m trapped inside like a stressed animal.” He handed the sight-enhancing device back to her and let her take control of the night.
It was obvious that a portable motor located behind the mobile shelter generated the power to the camp. The grumbling of the engine exhausted enough noise for them to create a small distraction while they breached the compound.
“You’ll have to snip the razor wire,” she said, and handed him a pair of cutters. “You’ll have to work quickly. Once the patrol passes, you’ll have only a few seconds. After that, you’re a sitting duck.”
“What about you?” Tom asked.
“I’ll be here waiting for you to return,” she replied.
“So I go in alone?”
“I got you here; now, it’s your job to patch up this project; but if there’s a problem, I’ll come in shooting like a crazy lady and heroically rescue you,” she said jokingly.
“Whatever it is I have to do just tell me, and I’ll do it; but don’t yank me around by the stick like a plastic finger,” Tom replied angrily.
She quieted his annoyed voice with her cupped hand over his active lips.
They heard the sound of dried underbrush cracking. They both froze.
She dropped her hand off his mouth, “Shush, don
’t move.”
“What is it?” Tom whispered in a startled voice. His eyes were searching into the darkness.
There were two red laser sights with military firepower attached cutting through the wooded path. The soldiers were screening the area and were advancing straight toward the spot where a security breach was detected.
“Remain quiet,” Keylu whispered. “Keep your head down.” She rose to her feet and removed a 9mm with a silencer from her padded vest; then approached in the direction of the laser beams.
The soldiers were silent and communicated with hand signals, one militant pointed in the direction of the suspected intruders.
Keylu scurried across the ground like a cat in heat. She attacked one of the men from behind, knocked the weapon from his hand, and shot him in the chest; the enemy fell to the ground. The second soldier rushed an attack, struck her with the butt of his weapon, and rendered her out of service. He rolled her over and checked her pulse and informed headquarters. “Clip to base. Intruder is down. Site secured. Apprehension completed.”
“Received,” the voice over the radio replied, “further assistance is on the way.”
Keylu was motionless on the ground. Tom thought that she might be dead; that was something he wasn’t prepared to accept.
A team of soldiers arrived within seconds and intensified their security sweep of the sector.
Tom wore the goggles and observed the soldiers. They recovered their fallen comrade and secured their prisoner; then they marched back to the compound once the area was cleaned.
He waited a bit before he came out of hiding. It was too quiet. Something wasn’t right. A twig snapped beneath a weighty foot. He spun around, startled.
A blocky soldier with big, tarnished, yellow teeth received the intruder with a mean snarl and thumped the weapon butt with an unrestrained beastly force across Tom’s forehead. It rubberized his legs, and he fell starry-eyed to the ground. Tom stared defenselessly upward at the huge man before his watery eyes rolled back into their sockets, and there was total darkness.