Travis pulled his arm away and said, “Get off of me.”
“Listen, we don’t have time for this bullshit. Let’s ride.”
Looking at the helmet in his hand, he thought about what Martin just said. His anger was piqued, and all he wanted to do was smash things.
“It’s just you and me. Now go jump in the passenger side. I’m driving us in.”
Travis brought his gaze back up and said, “Okay.”
Martin walked around him and got behind the wheel. As he closed the door, he heard a loud impact. He turned around and saw that Travis had hit the window again.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
“Get your ass in the vehicle; we got a job to do.”
The remaining forty-five minutes it took to get to the first checkpoint was filled with rehearsing just exactly what they were going to do.
After much discussion, it was decided that after the bomb was set in place they split up. Martin argued that doing so jeopardized the second part, but there was no convincing Travis. He was dead set on finding Lori even though he didn’t know where she was. His first assumption was the brig, and that would be guarded heavily; just how he’d get in and get her, well, he thought he’d just have to play it by ear.
While Travis was doing that, Martin would be attempting to recover patient zero.
When the first checkpoint came into view, both men sat up straighter and tried to look the part. They zigzagged through the S curve of jersey walls and sandbags until they stopped at the fortified guard station.
Martin looked for their man but didn’t see him. “Shit, where is he?”
“This is going to be fun,” Travis smirked, pulling out his pistol and resting it between his legs.
A black uniformed guard walked up and said, “Who are you, and what’s your business here?”
Looking around, Travis could see the military was not manning the checkpoint like they had when he had been there. Now DHS agents were all they saw milling around. This development must have just happened, or their source’s intelligence was horribly wrong.
“We’re coming in from Camp 19; I’m transporting Captain Miller here. He has orders to be the new supply commanding officer at the DIA,” Martin said.
The guard looked at Martin clad in his army uniform and then cocked his head and examined Travis. “Do you have paperwork?”
Travis buried the pistol in his lap, opened his right cargo pocket and removed a set of papers. He handed the folded stack across the wide console to the guard’s waiting hands.
The expressionless guard flipped through the paperwork, then raised his eyebrow; he looked back in and said, “Looks good.”
For an instant both Travis and Martin felt at ease, but the guard’s next request shattered that.
“Hold here for positive ID. I’ll get the scanner.” The guard walked away, chatted with another guard and disappeared into the small structure.
“I’m not going to pass the retinal scan; you do know that?” Travis commented with his jaw clenched.
“I’m not either,” Martin said, looking at Travis, a dour look on his face. He unsnapped his shoulder holster and pulled out his H&K pistol. “Not what I imagined would happen, but if we’re going to have to fight our way out of this, let’s not screw around.”
Several men exited the shack and walked over. One was wearing a military uniform.
“That’s our guy, right there, that’s him,” Martin said, a tone of excitement in his voice.
The military-uniformed man walked up with a small black box and said, “Good evening, gentlemen, I’m Staff Sergeant Gomez. Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s get you to ID yourselves here.” Staff Sergeant Gomez, a large man with broad shoulders, handed the scanner to Martin.
Martin obliged, and after a second of looking into the eyepiece, a loud beep sounded.
“Looks good, Staff Sergeant Smith, thank you. Please hand the scanner to the captain.”
Martin did as he said when another man walked up. He was wearing black fatigues and had a pissed-off look on his face. “Staff Sergeant Gomez, you know we’re under a lockdown. Orders are to not allow anyone in till further notice.”
“But this man is supposed to report to supply.”
“Supply? You think supply is critical?” the man barked.
“Not sure who you are, but I was requested specifically by the chancellor himself. I’m here to help with logistics for the lab.”
The black-fatigued man peered in and grimaced at Travis. “I don’t care where you’re going. We’re under strict orders; no one is allowed in.”
“How about I escort them in?” Gomez said.
The man looked at Gomez and said, “No.”
“Can I make a call to my commanding officer?” Travis blurted out. He was now just winging it.
The man answered him with disdain, “We can do that. Pull over there and park; stay in your vehicle.”
Martin looked at Travis with a concerned look. He wanted some sort of direction.
“How many have you counted?” Travis asked.
Martin looked and said, “Upon approach, about a dozen.”
Gomez pointed to a small gravel space a dozen feet just past the shack for them to park.
Slowly Martin pulled the vehicle there and stopped.
“I tried,” Gomez said, looking inside at Martin and Travis.
“Hi, I’m Martin, and this is—”
“Captain Priddy, I know. You’re a wanted man,” Gomez said.
“Any suggestions?” Travis asked.
“Well, unless you have a contact at the office, your orders will come back as bullshit,” Gomez answered.
Not needing to hear anymore, Travis got out and stood. He looked back at Martin and ordered, “Grab a grenade. I’ve got these three. After the spoon flies, hold it for a count of two before tossing it into the window.”
“Roger that,” Martin said and promptly followed his instructions. He grabbed his rucksack and pulled a high-explosive grenade out of a pouch on the outside.
“So this is how it’s going down?” Gomez asked.
Martin gave him a look and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think we have a choice.”
Travis’s hard-soled boots crunched on the gravel as he approached the shack.
He took long strides and was almost there when a guard yelled, “Stop right there.”
“Is there a head in there? I gotta piss,” Travis said.
“Get back in your vehicle,” the guard ordered.
“Can’t a guy take a piss?” Travis barked.
“Wilkens, chill out, man,” Gomez said as he walked up to the guard and stood next to him.
“But you heard the commander,” the guard said and repeated the last orders he had received, “These men must stay in the vehicle.”
While Gomez kept the guard’s attention focused on him, Travis walked within a foot of him and stopped while Martin swung around to a few feet of the southernmost window of the twenty-foot-by-twenty-foot building.
“Your name is Wilkens?” Travis asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where you from?”
“I’m an Arcadian.”
“Well, would you look at that, he’s an Arcadian,” Travis said as he drew his pistol, placed it under the man’s chin and pressed the trigger.
The man’s head exploded and he dropped straight to the ground.
Travis stepped over him, pistol out in front of him. He leveled the sights on the first man he saw and squeezed another round off.
The startled guard didn’t have time to react and took the bullet in the chest.
Gomez also sprang into action and fired off several rounds from his M-4 rifle into the other gate guard.
While this was happening, Martin had pulled the pin, and the spoon from the grenade popped off with a clang. “One one thousand, two one thousand,” he said to himself and tossed the grenade through the window.
Two seconds later an explosion shook the ground. The other
windows blew out followed by black billowing smoke.
Travis ran up the wooden ramp that led to the front door. The door had been blown off from the explosion. With no concern for his own safety, he entered the smoldering building.
Martin ran up and entered just a moment behind him. His eyes tried to adjust to the minimal light and smoke, but it was almost impossible. The deafening crack of gunfire hurt his ears and made him jump. He pivoted and walked into Travis. As his eyes focused, he saw Travis standing over the commander, who was still holding a handset. The glow from small fires inside illuminated his bloodied face.
“Think we were too late?” Martin asked.
“Not sure, but there’s no turning back. Make sure they’re all dead,” Travis said and stepped to his right.
Another loud crack sounded followed by three more.
Martin did as Travis ordered, and he found two men, their bodies twisted in the debris. They looked dead, but just to make sure, he aimed his pistol and squeezed off a round into each one’s head. When he walked out of the smoke, he saw Travis and Gomez waiting.
“What took you so long?” Travis asked.
Martin coughed and replied, “I didn’t realize I took that long.”
“Well, gentlemen, it’s on. I don’t know where it goes from here, but we are fully committed,” Travis said.
“Just a short drive to the secondary gate and we’ll be inside. Do you think he made contact?” Gomez asked.
“Right now we have to assume so,” Travis answered.
The small fires inside had grown and now enveloped the entire building in an intense blaze. The orange glow of the fire cast long shadows of the three men.
They all looked and knew what they had done and what it meant. Travis was right; there was no turning back now.
Charleston, South Carolina
A horn blared loudly three times. The sound carried across the river and echoed over the city and beyond.
Devin shot straight up and looked around, awoken by the loud blast. The night was pitch dark; with no moon, it made it impossible to see. His eyes slowly adjusted but could only make out some shapes. “Tess, what was that?”
No response.
He jumped up and whispered, “Tess, you there?”
Still no response.
Devin walked a few feet and whispered again, “Tess, where are you?”
A dark shadow moved in the distance.
“Tess, is that you?”
The shadow drew closer.
“Tess,” he said loudly.
“Yeah, it’s me. Why are you shouting?”
“I’m not. I couldn’t find you.”
“Thank God for these things,” she said, pulling off the pair of night-vision goggles.
“Was that horn what I think it was?” Devin asked.
“Yep, a ship is coming in now. I’d say they’ll be mooring up in a half an hour to an hour. Our window of opportunity will come a bit after that.”
The sounds of men yelling bounced off the creek and hit their ears.
“Looks like they’re coming to life,” Devin said.
“Hey, this might be the last time I get to say it, and I want to get this off my chest.”
The soft tone in Tess’s voice grabbed him, and he leaned in to listen.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight, but I think we’re going into the fucking hornets’ nest. I know I can be a hard-ass, foul-mouthed bitch sometimes, but please believe me when I say that you’re a good guy. I like you, Devin Chase, I really do,” she finished and grasped two of his fingers on his right hand.
Devin sensed this might be his moment to kiss her; he leaned a bit closer.
She didn’t pull back but seemed to wait.
He leaned even farther, closing the gap between their lips. He could now smell her breath, a sweet spearmint from her favorite gum. He chuckled to himself that only she had the best apocalyptic breath. Somehow she had found a stash of gum that would last a lifetime. For him, he loved it; he just hoped his breath wasn’t repulsive.
She hovered, waiting for him.
He was about to close the gap when a large glow erupted to the north.
They both looked and saw flames licking the sky. Music followed right after, and they could see shadowy figures dancing around a huge bonfire.
Frustrated by the interruption, he put his mind back to the task of kissing her, but Tess’s attention was gone, focused on the fire and the task ahead. She released his fingers and said, “Come, time to put the diversion in play.” She briskly walked away towards the Humvee.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.
“C’mon, let’s go,” she barked.
Devin turned and laughed to himself. His timing was sometimes the worst but not always. He asked himself why it had to be bad just then, why then.
The first part of their rescue attempt required a diversion, and they had one. There was no doubt what they had in mind would work; what they were concerned about was how long it would occupy their attention.
Devin had identified some large hundred-thousand-gallon tanks of chemicals located a quarter mile away from the loading dock’s main gate. They’d set the explosives, blow the tank, and watch the fireworks commence.
They arrived at the facility and found it wide open. The gate was a twisted piece of metal on the ground. Clearly someone had gone in looking for things of value.
Devin was driving and headed directly for the tank he thought would work.
The darkness was their friend and enemy. It provided them the cover they’d need, but it slowed them down at the same time.
They parked on the far side of the tank from the shipyard’s gate and went to work.
Devin had set C-4 only once before, and then he had Daryl to help him. Wanting to ensure the diversion worked, he allowed Tess to set the charges while he kept watch.
With just a headlamp, she approached the first tank and looked around for anything that told her this tank was suitable.
Nothing.
In the distance she saw thirty-six-inch pipes coming out of the tank and disappearing into the pavement. A large valve came off the pipe and was marked with a large red square sign marked ‘Highly flammable’. This was it. She didn’t know what it was, but it would more than likely cause the blast they were looking for. Her little fingers worked diligently and swiftly, inserting blasting caps into the five bricks of C-4 they had.
The only issue she saw for them was detonation. They couldn’t do it remotely or by a timer; they had to blow it from a short distance away. First, she didn’t know exactly how large the blast would be, and second, they’d have to flee south in a hurry and get their boats launched for phase two.
The commotion grew louder from the shipyard. Screams, howls and yelling continued to boom out across the area. It was obvious they didn’t fear anyone, and for Tess and Devin, that might be to their advantage.
Devin watched the huge glow to the west and patiently waited.
“All set. You ready to blow this bitch?” Tess asked.
“There’s not a better time than now. I heard the ship blare its horn a few more times, and I can see lights from the superstructure. The ship is definitely moored up,” Devin answered.
“I think we have a few seconds,” Tess said.
“For what?”
“This,” she said, then planted a kiss on his lips and pressed her body against his.
Devin was shocked by the kiss, as there was no warning. He adjusted in a split second and returned the kiss and embrace.
They held the kiss for a few seconds before she pulled away.
“I know you meant to do that earlier. I wanted to let you know that,” she said.
“I did want to, but the ship distracted us.”
“I know,” she said and caressed his bearded cheek.
“Tess, I have something to say too.”
She put her index finger on his lips and said, “Don’t tell me now, tell me on our way
back home. I want something to look forward to.”
“But I want to tell you now.”
“No, later,” she said. There was no doubt in her mind what he was going to say, and hearing a man tell her that he loved her was not something she was prepared to hear at that moment.
“I let you talk,” he protested.
“You’ll just have to wait. I like a man who has patience,” she teased, then continued, “And I don’t just mean waiting to talk.”
Devin got the hint, and wanting to explore what she meant later, he kept his mouth shut.
She pulled him down to the ground behind the Humvee, took the firing device in one hand and said, “Let’s go get those kids.” She pressed the handle down several times. There was a brief pause, then an explosion erupted that was like none they had ever seen.
Denver International Airport
Martin and Gomez used the short time between checkpoints to get some assets on the inside to the secondary checkpoint. If the commander at the first one had managed to get a call out, they’d have a hell of a time getting through.
“You know exactly where we’re taking this thing?” Travis asked.
“Yes, but you should too. This was supposed to be your job, remember?”
“I know, just making sure you know,” Travis joked.
“Just be ready to do some damage when we get up there.”
Martin leaned across the steering wheel and squinted. “Is that muzzle blasts I see up ahead?”
Travis looked carefully as well to confirm.
The checkpoint was less than a quarter mile away. There they were seeing small flashes.
“Why didn’t you get us a Humvee with a gun on it? That would have been helpful right about now,” Travis chided him.
“Well, excuse me. I didn’t think we’d be going into a fucking firefight.”
Travis didn’t need to press check his weapons; he was loaded and ready to fight. He wasn’t thrilled that shooting his rifle would be cumbersome, but he’d just have to adapt.
Martin pressed the accelerator down hard. They closed on the gate quickly but didn’t see anyone manning it; however, they did see people running around in what was definitely a gun battle.
“What are you doing?” Travis asked. He pushed himself back into the seat cushion and braced himself for impact.
The Death: The Complete Trilogy Page 44