by Joe Nobody
Keeping an eye on the nearby door, Bishop made his way around to the driver’s side and checked the door. It was unlocked. No, he thought. I wouldn’t be that lucky. Reaching in, he found the keys still in the ignition. In a few moments, both sets of keys were in Bishop’s pocket.
“That’s two mistakes you’ve made,” he whispered. “Maybe you guys aren’t so hot after all.” Reaching up to touch his head wound reminded Bishop that he’d better not get cocky.
Staying low beside the SUVs, Bishop watched the four teams spreading out across the desert. Choosing to conceal the inside of the hideout had resulted in a double-edged sword for the kidnappers. While it was impossible to see inside the building, it was also impossible to see out. They had put all of their security eggs in the sentry basket, and Nick had taken care of that.
Fifteen minutes later, the radio sounded with two clicks, followed a few minutes later by two more. The teams were in position.
Bishop walked to the corner where he could see both the side entrance and the overhead garage door.
Terri’s face felt puffy and swollen, and it hurt to breathe through her nose. One of the armed guards had checked her pupils, looked at her face, and announced she would be fine in a few weeks.
More important was the damage done to her ego. She had never had anyone lay a hand on her before, at least not since childhood spankings that she couldn’t remember. While watching television shows and movies, Terri had always believed she would react with anger toward any attacker. She would observe the female actors cower after being struck; always thinking I’d fight back like a lioness if some jerk laid a hand on me. Kick him in the nuts!
Now, sitting alone and very uncertain about her future, she wasn’t feeling any aggression. It wasn’t the pain or any petty vanity about her bruised appearance—that meant nothing right now. It was the terrible anguish of being helpless that dominated her thoughts. She had never experienced such a sensation. Having zero control of her well-being seemed to hollow out her soul and drain the energy from her body. Any will to fight had been literally beaten out of her.
When the interrogator stepped back into the room, it felt like the walls moved several feet closer, and the air became difficult to breathe.
There weren’t any apologies, not that Terri expected any. “I need to know what the president told you about his assassins, and I need to know now. Time is up—no more games.”
Terri had anticipated the question. Since the guards had helped her into her chair, she had been thinking of nothing but answering this lunatic and getting it over with.
“I asked him if he planned on escalating the war in Louisiana. He replied that he was going to pursue a peaceful solution. I then commented how that showed more forgiveness than I, personally, was capable of. I told him that he was doing the right thing, putting the country before any revenge against those that had tried to kill him.”
Her captor leaned forward, the corners of his mouth twisted in a grimace. “And . . . and . . . did he say any more?”
Terri sighed, “He said the Independents hadn’t tried to kill him. He said he knew who it was, that there was an . . . uhh . . . an ulterior motive.”
The man leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. Terri watched, fascinated, the transition in his demeanor unlike anything she’d ever witnessed. His reaction reminded her of someone who had just been told he carried some horrible, deadly disease, and had a short time to live.
Her abductor exhaled deeply, his eyes showing nothing. “No, he didn’t.” It hadn’t been a question, but a very clear statement.
“What?”
“The president didn’t say that, and you are going to testify to that fact.”
Terri was very confused. “But . . . but he did say that. I remember it clearly.”
Again, he became agitated, leaning forward in the chair with eyes full of hatred. “No he didn’t say any such thing,” he hissed. “In three days, there is going to be a group of senators at Fort Bliss. They are going to hold a hearing. You are going to testify that the president believed the attack against him was perpetrated by the Independents. There will be none of the ulterior motive nonsense or anything said about pursuing peace.”
Terri shook her head, “I don’t understand. You want me to lie? You want me to fabricate a story?”
Her captor bolted upright, grabbed the chair, and threw it against the wall. He turned and began screaming at Terri. “You will repeat exactly what I tell you to say, or we will come. We will come in the middle of the night and we will kill you, and your child, and your husband.”
Terri forgot about the beating. Thoughts of the cold cell, hunger, and the endangered child growing inside her were pushed aside by the realization of what this was all about. She had been pulled into some sort of political power struggle by the mere act of listening to a distressed man—a man who just happened to be the president. A compassionate conversation was to blame for all of this suffering—a simple talk with another human being who wanted to share his inner thoughts.
Terri couldn’t help herself and snorted, the outburst becoming a giggle of sorts. “I’ll be happy to lie, but I need to know why I’m committing perjury.”
Wayne smirked, “I am with the Independents, and our leader is the next in line to become president of the United States. I can’t let that happen.”
Terri was trying to think it through, “So you want me to let everyone think the Independents actually did try and execute the president? That doesn’t make any sense. Why don’t you want me to witness your innocence? Why. . . .”
Recognition crossed Terri’s face. With a look of horror, her eyes met the interrogator’s scowl. “You want the war to continue. You don’t want your leader to become president and make peace.”
Terri stood again, turning to face the wall. She took a deep breath and pivoted to face her imprisoner. “No, I won’t do it. I won’t be responsible for the deaths of thousands of people. No deal.”
The veins bulged on the interrogator’s neck, his face flushed red. Pointing a shaking finger at Terri, his voice boomed through the room. “You simple-minded little harlot! You’re nothing more than a marriage-whore, selling your body to a man you pretend to love in exchange for security and necessities. How dare you insult the leaders of our species—the people who try and guide our race forward? How dare you belittle those who sacrificed everything for a cause, a cause to improve our very existence? You have no concept. You are unqualified to comprehend, let alone judge such men.”
Terri thought for a moment. She pointed at her bruised face. “This is a cause?” She rubbed the raw skin on her wrists where the nylon ties had eaten into her skin. “This is building something better?”
He waved her off. “Sacrifices must be made. Collateral damage and suffering are the unfortunate byproduct of any revolution.”
It was Terri’s turn to explode in anger. “Ego is affecting your reasoning. You and the leaders of our country have lost touch with reality, sir. I give a shit less about the president or the government as a whole. They’re not great men to be worshiped, let alone respected. They are nothing to me. That respect was lost years ago . . . by me, and by most of the people I know. The only ones who care about that drama anymore are the actors onstage—the audience left the theatre a long time ago and asked for a refund on its way out.”
It was her captor’s turn to do the unexpected. Rather than launch into a tirade of angry insults, he laughed, shook his head and looked down. After a few deep breaths, he grinned at Terri and said, “I apologize, young lady. I wasted my time. I shouldn’t have expected someone like you to understand.”
Terri tilted her head, “Please, sir. Don’t confuse a lack of understanding with a complete lack of interest. You and our previously elected officials are irrelevant. There’s no country, no society, no taxes, and except for a rapidly decaying military, no authority. The power that you and your kind do wield is becoming extraneous—more so every day. I hate to be the
one to break the news to you, but there’s not much future in political power. Perhaps you should think of other work. Farmers are in short supply, I hear.”
The man paced a few steps and then spun around and spread his arms wide. “Those with me have sacrificed so much. We are on the brink of pulling this nation from the ashes—of building something better for all. Yet, you dismiss our cause with impunity. Before we end this conversation, I’d like to know why. Please indulge me with that final transfer of logic.”
Terri did the unexpected—she shrugged. Her captor wanted a debate. He seemed to desire an intellectual dual of some sort. Terri wanted to sleep and, adding insult to injury, yawned. After looking around at the guards, she finally focused back on the furious maniac standing in front of her and said, “I’m finished. Your game doesn’t interest me. I think watching paint dry would be more important. Shoot me if you’re going to. Let me go if you’re not. I’m not going to be the cause of more suffering and death. I won’t be the cause of a civil war.”
Wayne paced a few steps before he came to a conclusion. “I do have some small regret that you’ve reached this decision. The best case would be for you to testify. Since that’s not going to happen, the next best scenario is for you to never testify.” Without further thought, the man pointed to a nearby guard, and ordered, “Execute her,” and proceeded for the door.
Despite anticipating those words for hours, Terri’s heart froze. A human voice commanding her death impacted her far differently than she had imagined.
The guard glared at his master and responded, “No.”
The interrogator stopped mid-stride, acting as if he hadn’t heard the guard’s response. “What did you say?”
The large sentry loomed above his master, his voice steady and sure. “I said ‘No.’ You heard me loud and clear.”
“You are denying a direct command?” Turning to another of the guards, he commanded again. “You shoot her then. This one doesn’t have the guts.”
The answer from the second man was the same. “No.”
The boss’ eyes flashed anger, his head snapping from one jailer to the other. “What is the problem here, gentlemen?”
It was the first sentry who responded. “We are under contract to protect you and the senator. That’s it. We all signed up to conduct legal operations and preventative actions. Executing someone isn’t legal—I don’t give a rat’s ass what excuse you dream up. This woman didn’t do shit to anyone. I heard it with my own ears. Even if she had, we don’t execute anybody.”
The interrogator’s voice grew low and harsh. “You signed up to do as ordered. I was very clear in my agreement with Mr. King. I needed a team of his absolute best who could handle anything.”
The expression on the large sentry’s face stopped the speech. Realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the hired help, the interrogator reached for the small of his back and produced a pistol. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll do it myself.”
Before he could take a single step, a shot rang out.
Terri jumped as the sound reverberated through the metal walls of the building. Her heart sang with joy when she heard Bishop’s voice ring out. “You inside the building – I only want the woman. Send her out, and I’ll be on my way.”
The three guards exchanged glances, and then moved with unbelievable speed. The interrogator was bracketed by two of the men before he could react, the bookends of muscle and weapons hustling him toward the door. Terri was just as harshly lifted from her chair and moved to the hall where she was shoved to the ground and ordered, “Stay prone and don’t move.”
Chapter 15
West Texas
January 6, 2016
Bishop stood fifty feet from the garage with his rifle pointed into the air. For a brief time he thought his challenge wasn’t going to be answered as there wasn’t any visible or audible reaction from inside the building. Less than a minute passed before the overhead garage door opened and a single figure appeared. The man carried a SCAR rifle across his chest, casually strolling a few steps in Bishop’s direction.
“I gotta hand it to ya, slick. I sure didn’t peg you as being so tenacious.”
Bishop didn’t care about the man’s opinion. “Hand over my wife, and we’ll all go away.”
“And who might ‘we’ be? I only see one lone ranger who’s missing part of his ear.”
“I’ve got 20 men with me, and your little hacienda is completely surrounded. Give us the woman, and we’ll be on our way.”
The man opposing Bishop snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “You don’t really expect me to take your word for it, do you? How foolish would I feel if I found out later you had bluffed me?”
Bishop moved his hand slowly and deliberately, careful not to project any offensive movement. He waved in the air. “Look over my shoulder,” he challenged. “I think you’ll see that I’m not in a bluffing mood. I want my wife back.”
At Bishop’s signal, several men rose from behind rocks and bushes. Most of them brandishing their weapons and making sure there was no doubt about their intent.
“Where’s my sentry? I assume you didn’t just kill him for sport.”
Bishop nodded in the direction of the hide. Nick lifted a large branch of foliage, exposing a man on his knees with hands behind his back. The rather pitiful looking ex-sentry was bleeding from the nose. Bishop repeated, “I want my wife back. I don’t give one shit about what you guys are doing or why. It’s none of my business. Give me the woman and leave us alone.”
The guy with the SCAR looked around and nodded back at Bishop. “To be blunt here, slick, I’m not in charge of this party—not exactly, anyway. Let me go inside and convince the boss you mean business, and perhaps we can strike a deal.”
“You have three minutes,” Bishop warned. “The longer this drags on, the more chance someone will try and do something stupid. Stupid is going to equal death today—there’s no getting around it.”
Bishop’s comment earned him a slight grin and then a nod of understanding. Pivoting, the man returned briskly to the garage. Bishop held tight, hoping this would end quietly, hoping Terri was unharmed. Just as the man disappeared into the dark shadows of the former business, Bishop’s earpiece sounded with the voice of a frightened man. “Bishop, we’ve got more company. I can see four helicopters headed right toward us from the west. They’ll be here in less than a minute.”
“Roger that,” he responded into his microphone. Looking at Nick, Bishop shrugged. “What do we do now?”
Nick waved another man up to watch his prisoner. As soon as he was free of guard duty, the ex-Special Forces operator headed off at a full run, clearly having the intent to investigate what had just been broadcasted. Bishop had no choice but to wait and see what his friend reported.
There were only two options as far as Bishop could determine. Either the copters were bringing the bad guys’ reinforcements, or not. If the aircraft were armed in any way, the whole thing was over. His group didn’t have the firepower or skills to ward off an assault from the air. If the transports contained more armed men, then it was still over. Despite the bravery and local knowledge of the men Nick had gathered, they wouldn’t stand a chance against superior numbers of the type of operators Bishop believed they faced. The four approaching birds could hold 20 to 25 men and that would simply tilt the odds too much in the opposing side’s favor.
Terri. Bishop’s mind started rolling though any option to get Terri out before they had to retreat. He decided to press his opponent before the copters landed.
“Hey inside! We’re running out of time. Let’s get this over with. Stop being clever, and send out the girl.”
Nick’s voice sounded in Bishop’s ear. “They’re military birds, Bishop. I don’t think they’re gunships. They’ll be here is a few seconds.”
Bishop glanced to the western sky but couldn’t see anything. He took two steps toward the garage and then instinctively ducked as one of the helicopters zoomed over t
he hill and flew past very low. Glancing up, he could see Agent Powell looking down as the bird flew past.
“What the hell,” mumbled Powell under his breath. His two missing vehicles were down there along with several men scattered around the building—and then there was Bishop. What is Bishop doing here? What’s he got to do with kidnapping Wayne? Was I wrong about him, was he really involved in all of this?
Powell quickly determined there was only one way he was going to find out. Turning to the pilot, he shouted orders. “Have the troops land to the north and form up. We’ll join them.”
“Roger that.”
Nick’s voice sounded again. “Bishop, they’re landing about 400 meters north of us. What do you think?”
Bishop could see the entire situation was getting completely out of control. Too many armed men and no one knew who was on which side. “Pull pack,” he barked at Nick. “Bring those teams back behind me. Don’t engage or give the Army units any excuse.”
“Sounds good to me. We’re on our way.”
Terri was lying prone on the cold concrete floor, her emotions fighting between absolute joy and dread that something terrible was going to happen to Bishop. Since the leader of the armed guards had returned from talking with Bishop, he and his men had been discussing the situation among themselves. The interrogator appeared in shock, sitting with his back to a wall and his head between his knees. Terri hadn’t seen him stir since being forced to the spot by his bodyguards.
It appeared to Terri that the crowd of armed men was near reaching a decision when the helicopter passed overhead. The leader of the guards had sprinted to the open doorway and glanced up, shaking his head and then returning to his comrades. While Terri couldn’t hear the conversation, the new arrival clearly wasn’t good news for the guards. The interrogator didn’t seem to notice.
Nick seemed winded when he transmitted again. “Bishop, we’re falling back to your six. We’ll be passing behind you and on the western side in a minute. The birds dumped over 20 men, and they’ve formed up into a skirmish line. They’re heading this way in a hurry. I expect them to arrive at your location in less than four minutes.”