“Charlie, you stay here ready to drive, listening on coms, and tracking the area via satellite.” Laura glanced at Bryce. “You and Teddy take the back. Eri, you find a way to the second floor. Helena, you keep a watch out. Myers and I will go through the front on my count. Questions?”
“How do we know she’s in there?” Myers asked.
Laura glanced down the street and sighed. “Because, that isn’t a van like ours. That is our van.”
****
The air was silent for the exception of rustling leaves and the squeaking of a swing in the backyard. Teddy knelt by the screen door in the back of the house. This hardly seemed like a place for this—in the heart of suburbia. The slight smell of cut grass tickled his nose. Willing himself not to sneeze, he leaned his face on the side of his arm.
“You okay?” Bryce asked.
“Allergic to the grass.”
Bryce shook his head, basically saying, “Don’t sneeze, man.”
Mind over matter. Teddy had this. And then he didn’t. Without warning, air shot from his nose and mouth.
Bryce snapped in the com. “Now!”
Everyone swept into action, and the night became sounds of boots pushing in doors, broken glass, gunshots, and smoke.
“Clear,” Laura yelled from the front.
“Clear,” Bryce said from the kitchen.
Eri’s voice didn’t come. “Eri,” Charlie said over the com.
Nothing.
“Eri,” he said again.
Bryce pointed two fingers at his eyes, then pointed one up and nodded, before creeping forward.
Teddy understood. They were going upstairs. With guns ready, they crept outside the door and to a wooden staircase to the left of the kitchen. Bryce kept his back to the wall, and Teddy swung his gun to the end to stairs. In unison, they inched up to the top. A faint whimpering noise came from last room.
“Upstairs,” Bryce whispered in the com.
“Got it,” Laura said back.
One guard stood at the door.
Bryce glanced at the staircase. Laura’s head popped up. She steadied her gun on the railing and nodded. Myers passed her and shifted around the corner to stand between Bryce and Teddy.
He shot a dart into the side of a guard’s neck. The man crumpled to the floor.
Laura motioned for Teddy to take care of the body.
Teddy closed his eyes and inhaled. His heart beat like a jackrabbit on sugar. It has been too long. Could he still do this? He complied and dragged the body down the hall and out of the way.
When he came back, he spotted Bryce holding up one finger, slowly raising another. When his third one lifted, Myers kicked the door in. The three men rushed the room and then stopped. Willow sat in a metal chair in the center, blindfolded, gagged, and surrounded by a dozen or more red laser dots.
Nausea swept through Teddy’s core. Focus. He glanced around, wondering the source of the red dots. A slew of holes covered the walls, which likely held guns or claymore mines. What did they do?
“Willow, we’re here, but you need to keep still, okay?” Bryce said, glancing around at the situation.
She moaned but didn’t move.
Bryce backed out of the room, probably to go get Laura.
“What’s going on?” Charlie asked over the com. “Any word on Eri?”
Myers and Teddy exchanged glances. Did they tell him? “Eri’s not here, man,” Myers whispered. “But we found Willow. We need you to bring your laptop.”
“What do you mean Eri’s not there?”
“We’ll explain when you get up here. But get up here, now!” Myers dropped a load of expletives, which he always seemed to do to emphasize his point. Hopefully, he wouldn’t start punching things.
Laura entered and knelt down. With the confidence Teddy always admired, she peered from every angle. She rose and peeked at the side of one of the holes. “Could be claymore mines, not sure. Deshawn will know more. But one thing I am sure of, if we cross any of those beams, she’s toast.”
“We can’t leave her like that,” Teddy said.
“We won’t, but we have to think this through.” Laura pulled out a cell phone and dialed. Placing it to her ear, she said, “Yeah, hi, it’s Laura. It’s time.”
Chapter Five
Willow sat in the chair, trying not to move. Trying not to scream. There was no clue available to determine her situation. Only assumption. Something was in her ears, over her eyes, and in her mouth. Voices echoed all around her, but she could not discern their words. The loss of senses gave the illusion of being buried alive—one of her biggest fears. It could not beat her.
Instead, she would focus on other things. Like, how long had she been like this? What could be happening? It had to be a bomb. For that reason alone, she would be still. One wrong movement and that could be it. Though she had hated her time at S.I.U., she was thankful now for every moment in the pit. Harding had often made the team stay overnight in an underground tunnel filled with insects and other creatures. The point was to help with claustrophobia and to learn to blank out pain. Coming out always took a week or two of medical treatment, but it got easier. Today, it helped.
Though exhausted, sleep was beyond her. Fear was enough, but it was not everything. Her back muscles burned, her neck ached, and her feet tingled and were numb. Inhale through the nose. Exhale into the rag. Inhale through the nose. Exhale into the rag. Once again, she tried to focus on her heartbeat and not her situation. It was not enough. Anxiety rose in her chest. What else could she think about to distract herself? Maybe she could pray. Maybe Harding wasn’t the only one to prepare her for today. Growing up in church may also have prepared her. At the time, she only went to church to get away from her angry alcoholic father. When the church bus started stopping on her street, Willow took it.
It was nice to see all those happy people. And the donuts and candy weren’t bad either. But what had she learned those days that might help right now? There was a Psalm she liked. Was it twenty-three or four? Something about overcoming evil… What were the words? She couldn’t remember all them, but what she could remember instantly gave her peace. She cited them in her head and tried to repeat them in a whisper. It helped some until the room grew uncomfortable—stifling hot.
Sweat began to bead on her brow and dripped down her back and face. Inhale, exhale. Slow your breathing.
Something was wrong. Loud thunderous sounds echoed in her ears. Stars began to form before her eyes, and she thought she might pass out. Memories flooded her mind. Was this the flash before she died? No, it was the reality that this all was happening because of one decision so long ago. One moment in time. It only took a few seconds to completely change the course of her life.
It still played clear in her thoughts. July Fourth—a national holiday—supposed to be a day to celebrate. Her dad was drunker that usual. For some dumb reason, he decided Willow needed to stay close to home that night—something about there being too much partying and too many drunk drivers out there. Not that being home with an abusive alcoholic father was much safer. But he dictated, and she obeyed, per usual.
Right after sunset, he began to have one his tirades. Being yelled at and demeaned, Willow retreated to her room and locked it with a chair. It didn’t take but a moment for him to react. He stumbled outside her door and started banging and cursing. Fear clutched her throat, and sobs wracked her body. For a moment, she folded to the ground and allowed it to have her. Then something happened. Boldness, a desire to fight like never before, sent a thought that would change everything, one she probably should have ignored.
“Dad, if you calm down, I’ll make you dinner.”
The knocking stopped. He let out a few choice words, and then, his footsteps retreated down the hall, followed by the sound of the TV being turned on.
Willow slipped into the hall and peered over to her father on the couch. Occupied. It was her only chance. She ran for the stairs and down them into the basement. Flicking on the light,
she quickly glanced around for any kind of weapon. Her gaze caught anti-freeze. The memory of some woman killing her family with anti-freeze occurred to her, but then she dismissed it. That would take entirely too long. Her eye caught sight of an axe that sat against the side of a workbench. Could she do this? Kill her own father? But she had to, didn’t she? There was no other way out. It was the only way she would ever be free.
She lifted it with both hands. It was heavier than she anticipated. A quick swing determined it was not too heavy. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her breathing labored. Stars fluttered through her vision. Don’t black out.
At the top of the stairs, she could hear some military movie playing in the background. Something he always watched. She peeked out. His head lay against the back of the sofa. She moved toward him. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to find a place in her core to do this, but it only screamed “no.” She proceeded to lower the axe. No way could she take his life. It wasn’t in her to murder someone, especially her dad.
“I brought beer.” The screen door opened, revealing Mrs. Tyler from next door. The widow often came over to spoon with her dad, despite their obvious age difference. Her wrinkled mouth dropped as she looked from the axe to Willow to the man on the couch. She backed up, stuttering, while pulling out her cell phone.
Her father pivoted around. His eyes went wide, then fierce. He leapt over the couch in one leap. Willow ran for her room again, axe still in hand.
“Come here, you little—!”
She slammed the door before the curses fell.
The door pushed open.
She leaned against it, pushing it back.
His hand came through the crack. She swung the axe, slicing a knuckle. He pulled back with a yelp; she slammed the door and then pushed the chair under the handle. She inched back and folded to the ground, still clutching the weapon in her hands, silently praying for help. Tears burned her cheeks. It seemed like seconds later, sirens sounded in the street. Red and blue lights flickered through the open blinds and around her room.
A new knock pounded on the door. “This is the police. Open up!”
Willow placed the axe on the bed and crossed to the door. “Show me a badge under the door, and I’ll open it.”
“Lady, do you see the lights? Open the door, or we’ll kick it in.”
Willow steeled herself for anything. With trembling hands, she moved the chair. The door popped open, and two tall men in uniform stood there brandishing weapons pointed at her head.
“On your knees, now!” one commanded.
She dropped, no longer afraid. It had to be bad when being locked up by the police felt better than being at home. They drug her out and into the back of a car. At the station, they took her statement and assured her she would be freed. Maybe she would have been, but Greenstone came for her. He said she was lost and needed a family. The story he spun said he would provide her a new way to live. A better way. Later, the truth would come out. The fact she could kill her own father seemed to put her on the S.I.U. radar. Little did they know she wasn’t strong enough to do it; that given time, she would have put the axe down and made him dinner.
A sharp pain shot up Willow’s back, bringing her back to the present situation. All memory returned to being stuck in a hard metal chair, ready to die. Her whole life seemed to revolve around bad circumstances. Only for a short time in her entire life had she felt any sense of happiness. Her new family—Laura and her husband, Bryce—had taken her in, with no questions and no suspicions. Not once had they asked why she came to S.I.U. in the first place. The entire thing with them seemed surreal. Too happy. Of course, it couldn’t last. No bliss ever did.
Though she hated to admit defeat, today she felt vanquished. Soon the bomb would take her life. What happened next, she didn’t know. Her heart would miss her dear friends Teddy and Helena. She had become such great friends with both. That hurt worse than the idea of death. At least in death, there wasn’t any pain. Joining God would at last be the freedom she always sought. Maybe even joy. But not for those who would mourn her. Teddy would take it the worst. His tender heart always made her smile. Today, it made her sad. Fresh tears seeped into the rag around her eyes.
Truthfully, she didn’t really know what would happen after the bomb took her. Visions of Sunday school skits and Bible stories came back to her memory. She focused on that and the thoughts of heaven. Whatever it took, she needed to get ready.
Chapter Six
Laura discontinued the call. This was bigger than her training; Deshawn knew a lot about this kind of thing. They were still getting to know him, but from what she had seen, he was a genius with all things tactical. Before being caught, his job in the military had been to clear areas with bombs and snipers. He was a big guy, and few would mess with him. His stature even made the mighty Myers look diminutive.
Deshawn and Charlie appeared above the stairs at the same time. Charlie ducked in a far room and returned with a chair. He placed it in the hallway, sat, and opened his computer on his lap. “If you want me fully functional here, I need you to tell me…” His eyes met hers. “Where is Eri?”
“I totally get it. We all do.” Laura crossed the hallway to touch his shoulder. “My best guess, Charlie, is they took her when we first arrived. We can’t really know for sure until we get Willow out of here. Time is of the essence. Can you focus? Or should I get Myers to do it instead?”
“Tell me what we have.”
Laura knew that would work. Myers and Charlie had a healthy competition about who was the better hacker. Charlie probably was, but Myers was a close second. She looked up. “Deshawn.”
The black man nodded and ducked into the room.
Laura followed.
He trailed the course of the beams with his eyes, looking from the holes in the wall to the chair. He knelt down and studied the ground near her feet. “Good news or bad?”
“Both.”
“Good news, no pressure plate.”
Laura crossed her arms and faced him. “And the bad?”
“If we move her, every mine will be triggered and people will die.”
Now what? Laura paced out the door and down the hall. She stopped in front of Charlie. “Any technical options?”
“I was hoping it would be triggered by some sort of device, but they went old school. Nothing I can do here.”
Tears welled in Laura’s eyes. Not something that happened often. But how did they save their friend? It seemed impossible.
“I have an idea,” Teddy said.
“What?” Laura said a bit sharply, and Teddy jumped back. “Sorry.”
Teddy shrugged. “It’s okay. We’re all tense. I’d probably yell at me, too, if I weren’t me.” He smiled and then continued, “This may sound silly…” He glanced at each of them. “But you know the old Bugs Bunny cartoons where they saw a hole in the ceiling and the person drops through. Do you think that is possible? Crazy, right? Could it work? It would be really cool if it could work.”
They all stared at him. It did sound ridiculous.
Laura pondered that thought. Would it work? Or would it get them all killed?
“This is a tall house,” Bryce said. “How do we saw a hole?”
“Not to mention there is probably more than a simple floorboard between—” Laura started to say, but then stopped. “But wait, what if we were able to get her from above somehow?”
Bryce titled his head sideways. “I don’t understand.”
Laura walked back to the doorway and pointed. “All the beams are at her chest and back. Could we go in the attic and lower something down?”
“She’d still get hit the minute the beams are broken,” Deshawn said.
“Dang!” Laura began to pace.
“Come on. Stay with us.” Bryce slid a hand to the middle of her back. “We’ll figure something out.”
Willow mumbled through the cloth.
Laura tried to listen. “What is she saying?”
“I
think she may be citing something.”
Charlie ripped the beanie off his head, revealing a mop of hair. The pain in his eyes said this was not his top mission. They needed to hurry.
“Is there a way to disable the claymores without crossing the beams?” Bryce pointed to the holes.
Deshawn held up a finger and walked back in the room. A moment later, he exited and nodded. “If we can access them through the other side of the wall, it is possible. But any disturbance to the mines, and they will likely go off.”
“So old school here too. No electric saws,” Laura said.
“No, that wouldn’t work either.” Charlie stood and snapped his laptop closed. “I say we go purely new. We use lasers to cut the back of the walls.”
****
It took hours, and Laura felt bad for Charlie. Without knowing Eri’s whereabouts, he was not doing well. Each second that went by changed his demeanor. One minute, he was crying; the next, he was angry and kicking the wall. If they didn’t do something soon, the cork would pop, and he would do something irrational.
Laura stepped over a mound of sheetrock and leaned next to where Charlie was scooping out some wall. “Charlie, I think you should take Helena and do some recon work on where Eri might have gone. Tap into satellites or whatever it is that you do. When you find something, come get one of us.”
Clear relief washed over his face. “Thanks.”
She nodded as the two left down the stairs.
“Smart move. He wasn’t going to last much longer,” Bryce said, setting down a laser and peeling back drywall.
“I began to worry that any moment he might have just busted in there and ripped Willow out of the chair.” Laura glanced down the hall at the various holes that were now exposed from the hallway. “Now what?”
“We disconnect them one by one. Deshawn taught me how. Let me show you.” Bryce pointed to the wires and the laser connection. It only took a second, and the first laser dropped off.
Each of them walked to other openings and did the same. Laura went to the one in the far bedroom to check out one of the holes Charlie had created. Leaning down, something caught the corner of her vision on the far nightstand. An ivory-colored envelope with the word BLACK scribbled in felt pen.
The Hidden Two Page 3