Thriller Box Set One: The Subway-The Debt-Catastrophic

by Dustin Stevens

  Having asked for the end unit, I pulled my truck up to the opposite side of the parking lot, putting as much distance between myself and the lights of the main office as I could. Easing my truck up along the side of the building, I locked everything in the toolbox in the bed, carrying in only what I absolutely needed, not planning on staying long.

  Never have I been one to be jumpy, hearing noises in the night or interpreting shadows as threats, but the events of the last couple days had my nerves pulled tight. Thoughts, images, trainings all received a long time before were coming back to me thick and furious, again bringing along concerns about whether or not I wanted to be experiencing them again at all.

  With that in mind, I laid down on the thin floral print comforter covering the rock hard bed at ten minutes after 1:00. For more than a half hour I stared at the ceiling, consciously pushing every thought that entered my mind away, hoping to find rest that never came.

  What I found instead was infinitely more useful.

  And without a doubt saved my life.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The code was painfully obvious in its simplicity, though undoubtedly effective in its execution. The conversation in total was less than a minute, though that alone was sufficient to tell Rae Sommers everything she needed to know.

  The heat was turning up. It was time to disappear for a while.

  Never before had they needed to use the double entendre, coded messages being just one of an untold many things both had been all too glad to leave behind when they mustered out. Barely had they even discussed the matter, Rae once asking if they should carry one just in case, having recently arrived and not long removed from the life.

  At the time Laredo had laughed at the notion, telling her such things were not of the sort that ranchers generally needed to have a handle on. On the spot he had made up Bob’s Air Conditioner Repair, even adopting a funny southern accent for the imaginary Bob and a short backstory that involved three barefoot kids and a family-wide proclivity for Waffle House.

  As she drove away from the ranch, every detail of that conversation came back to Rae, not so much because of the importance of the details in it, but because of the fondness she had always held for it. The scars of her service were still open and raw when she had found Laredo, the first few months a touch-and-go affair that neither was too certain was going to pan out.

  In that moment though, talking about the imaginary Bob and his family sitting around eating scattered and smothered hash browns, Rae had been able to laugh for the first time in what felt like years. Pure, unbridled, unadulterated laughter, the sort of thing that had made her seek out Laredo to begin with.

  In an instant she had known her decision was correct, that despite whatever trials they may undergo, that they would endure.

  The fact that the call had come at all was not terribly surprising, Rae expecting it from the moment Laredo drove away. The dust had not yet even settled in the lane from his departure when she returned to the bedroom and packed her own bag, opting to travel just as light and carrying the same disregard for folding or wrinkles as her partner.

  Filled with only essentials, Rae had left the olive green duffel sitting just inside the kitchen door. Beside it she had placed a small silver carrying case with two .45 ACP’s inside, an AR-15 that they weren’t supposed to own but she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of leaning against the wall beside it.

  In the back of her SUV was a whole host of other gear that never left her ride, ranging from camping equipment to a hawksbill knife she had traded a Navy SEAL for.

  Once preparations were made she had gone about her normal life for the next day and a half, picking up Laredo’s slack, her work day extended almost twice as long as usual to make up the extra ground.

  On a ranch there was never a shortage of things to do, the constant energy coupled with the relative solitude what had drawn them both to it in the first place. Given where they were on the annual cycle, there were vaccinations to be administered to the winter calves, helping the farrier put new shoes on the work horses.

  Beyond that was the usual litany of unending ranch problems, from mucking stalls to bush hogging the fields. Compared to what both had done for money in their previous life it was a welcome change, a different kind of physical labor that left the bank account empty and the soul full rather than the other way around.

  Rae had just finished a late dinner of grilled tofu and eggplant when Laredo called, hanging up the phone and going directly into the barn. Moving in short order she had unlatched each of the horse stalls, shooing the animals out into the back pasture so they weren’t confined should somebody come around and since she didn’t know how long she might be gone, plenty of room to graze.

  After that she had considered moving some of the farm equipment, spacing the various pieces around the property, keeping anybody from being able to wipe them out in one quick pass. Just as quickly she had dismissed the notion, silently scolding herself for even thinking of such a thing.

  Laredo would not have called unless the threat was real.

  Replacing hunks of metal was why they had insurance.

  Leaving the barn, she had pulled her SUV up close to the house, loading the meager supplies in quickly. Once they were stowed away, she made the perfunctory trip around the interior, latching windows and locking doors, knowing the entire time that if anybody showed up, neither would provide the least bit of resistance against them.

  Doing so was required to activate the alarm though, the sensor tied to the closed circuit of each door being locked. Connected to it was also the pair of cameras that hung over each of the main entrances to the house, that view being the only reason Rae bothered taking the time to secure things.

  If Laredo was certain enough to call and warn her, that made it a virtual lock that somebody would soon be stopping by.

  And she damned sure wanted to have a full image of who they were and what they were doing when they got there.

  Twenty-one minutes after hanging up the phone, Rae was on the road, riding with the headlamps off, letting the light of a waxing gibbous moon guide her over the open west Texas roads.

  In the course of their previous conversation, they hadn’t managed to get past the initial raucous laughter of imagining Bob and his misshapen family sitting down to stuff themselves silly on waffles and pork products. On the call Laredo had alluded to a Plan B, though they both knew no such thing existed.

  The point was merely to convey the urgency of the moment, to get Rae out the door and on her way.

  Posted up behind the wheel of her SUV, her phone seated in the charging dock on the dashboard, the dual camera feeds live on the screen, Rae could only think of one viable Plan B. She didn’t know exactly where Laredo was headed, but she knew where he was at the moment.

  That was good enough to give her a start, letting them both see how the coming hours played before hashing out their next steps.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The decision to call Laredo Wynn was Skye’s and Skye’s alone. Raz and Jazmine had both leaned far away from the idea, not wanting to open a line of communication, feeling like anything the man had coming to him he likely deserved.

  Even the choice to hack into satellite imagery and take a peek at where he was headed or what he was doing was on her, the others offering no support whatsoever.

  Just a few hours before, while sitting in the house in Elk Grove and staring through the computer webcam at the man with the auburn hair and gnarly scar, she would have felt the same way. He was nothing more than a former soldier, another in the unending parade of mindless tools that had been sent to dispatch them.

  A quick peek through his file had shifted that thinking only slightly, the enormous amount of redactions keeping her from getting a good feel for the man or what he was after.

  Still, for whatever reason, there was some small inkling, an internal nagging that kept her from writing him off completely. It sat just below her conscious mind as they loaded
up the remainder of the gear, festered as they found the location far outside of town and set up shop in the woods.

  Something wasn’t tracking right. There was a difference between the previous individuals, the edges a bit more sanded, his face betraying curiosity, even frustration, far more than the usual cocktail of arrogance and hostility.

  Putting that feeling over the top was the fact that he had even bothered to run a web search for her, proving he was not another mindless follower, at least concerned enough to put a story with the name of the woman he’d been sent to find.

  Of those thoughts she said nothing, not even sure herself how legit they were until seeing the way he approached the house. The combination of him parking in plain sight, walking to the door in daily attire, calling her name as he searched the place over, caused each of the previous thoughts to become more solidified.

  Witnessing the phone conversation he took part in pushed it into another stratosphere.

  In an instant, every previous thought and idea Skye had about the man was confirmed, bringing with it a large handful of new questions and concerns.

  It was obvious to anybody watching the feed that Wynn was not merely another rent-a-soldier. He had thoughts and designs of his own, did not agree at all with what had been charged to him. Such disagreement was on plain display, the man not afraid to go after whoever was on the other end of the line.

  For the first time in ages, Skye allowed herself to think there might be a glimmer of hope. For months they had been running. If now, after so much time, there was someone they could reach out to, possibly even align themselves with, it could bring them that much closer to their end objective.

  Perhaps even provide them with an inside man, someone they could use as a mole, bring an end to everything that was happening on either side of the globe.

  Whether or not Wynn would have any interest in doing so, Skye had no way of knowing. All she knew for certain was that the schedule they’d been keeping was becoming too cumbersome, that eventually the opposition was going to catch up with them.

  They were good, but the simple truth was, they were computer experts. They knew nothing of tracking or hunting someone, were not equipped with the same sort of skills of those coming after them.

  Things were becoming desperate, both from their physical situation and the ticking clock that hung over everything.

  It was time to try something new.

  She had gotten no more than a few sentences into her pitch when Raz shut her down, scoffing at the notion. Less than a moment later, Jazmine had joined in.

  Whether or not that was because she agreed with Raz’s assessment or merely just agreed with him by default, Skye had no way of knowing, the two options presenting equal odds.

  A second attempt at bringing them to her way of thinking had brought on open acrimony, Skye accepting their decision and snatching up the laptop to step outside.

  Her first stop was on a felled log just beyond the scope of the gravel bar they were parked on, the damp wood soaking through the bottom of the yoga pants she wore. Bit by bit it pulled the warmth from her body, causing her already pale skin to go chalky white as she sat and stared at the computer balanced across her knees.

  On the screen was a satellite image of a small hotel in eastern Iowa, the job of tracking Wynn once they had a make, model, and license plate on the truck easy enough. There were only a few major thoroughfares in and out of the western Chicago suburbs, none providing for a quicker getaway than I-88, the route running most of the way across the country.

  It was for that very reason they had chosen the road as well.

  A full hour after leaving the van, Skye heard the incessant cackling of Jazmine inside slow down, replaced soon thereafter by sounds of a much different nature. Feeling her stomach lurch at the thought, Skye waited just long enough to save the coordinates of her query before retreating deeper into the woods, leaving the shocks of the van moaning slightly in her wake.

  With the laptop tucked under an arm, Skye hiked diagonally through the thick undergrowth of the woods, the pitch of the ground angling slightly upward. Fifteen minutes after starting her walk she took a hard right, following a trail out of the woods as it ascended a rocky embankment.

  Free of the dense trees overhead, she could see the moon and stars more clearly above, could feel the air temperature rise several degrees. The previous chill that had coursed through her receded as she moved on, her breathing becoming labored as the angle of the trail continued to rise.

  With the laptop still tucked under an arm, she leaned forward, digging her toes into the soft earth, rising no more than a couple of feet with every step. Puffs of dust rose with each one, clinging to the moisture that painted her visage as she walked.

  A full half hour after leaving the tree by the van, Skye crested out on top of the embankment. From such a vantage she could see the lights of Chicagoland in the distance, the massive urban sprawl reduced to nothing more than a smudge of orange occupying a good chunk of the horizon line.

  In the opposite direction she could see nothing but the dense canopy of trees, their tops looking thick and black under the moonlight. Cutting through them was a thin stream, creating a line that resembled a ribbon as it knifed through the undergrowth.

  Taking a few moments to allow her heartbeat to slow, Skye pulled back away from the ledge. She found a tuft of grass at the base of an elm tree and positioned herself against it, reopening the laptop and allowing it to sit flush atop her thighs, her legs directly out in front of her.

  It was clear Wynn was in for the night. Why she felt the need to continue watching him she wasn’t sure, knowing only that her body clock would prevent her from sleeping, her racing mind compelling her to do something.

  Her default option would be to go back to the satellites and continue the work she and Raz had been doing for months, but at the moment it seemed more prudent to steer clear of those particular frequencies. Obviously what they were doing was attracting ire, and for the time being it would be better to stay far away.

  It took only a moment for Skye to pull the satellite feed back up, the image providing startling clarity given the level of zoom that was involved. After focusing in tight to ensure Wynn’s truck was still tucked against the hotel she backed off, providing herself a one mile perimeter around the place, more out of abject curiosity than anything else.

  She left the image in place on her screen and leaned her head against the tree behind her, eyes glazing over as she sat back to think.

  The time had long since passed when she couldn’t help but wonder if what she was doing was still worth it. In the beginning there had been a clear nexus between their actions and their goals, but with each passing week, every close encounter with someone new, there was no way to be certain.

  What they were trying to do was no less noble, though their opponent was growing stronger by the day. One couldn’t help but ask if by the time they finally achieved what they’d been striving for it would even matter, or if they would just be one more gnat to be swatted away.

  So deep was she in those thoughts that when the screen finally revealed something, she almost missed it.

  Starting as nothing more than a small black smudge in the corner, it had moved for more than an inch across the screen before catching her attention. Feeling her heart lurch in her chest, Skye snapped her head forward from the base of the tree. Her breathing increased as she stared, waiting only another couple of seconds for her mind to compute what she was seeing before digging into the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt and extracting her phone.

  Minimizing the satellite imagery onto the right side of the screen, she pulled up a simple internet search tool and punched in the name of the hotel, remembering it from watching Wynn check in an hour before.

  “Hello,” a sleepy sounding voice said after three rings, Skye spending the time between each one whispering pleas for someone to pick up. “Come On Inn.”

  “I need to speak with the man in
the far end unit,” Skye said, each word sounding clipped and short.

  No matter how good the feed was, there was no way for her to know what room number Wynn was staying in. Unable to ask that way, and knowing only that he likely hadn’t checked in under his own name, there was no other way to contact him.

  “You mean Mr. Smith?” the man asked, boredom still permeating his voice.

  “Yes!” Skye said, jumping at the question with an intensity that surprised even her.

  Only a man not wanting to be found would use something so vanilla, the only other obvious choice being Jones.

  It was Wynn. It had to be.

  “Hold on,” the man said, bad elevator music coming on for an instant before the phone began to ring anew. As it did, the darkened black blip on the screen continued moving closer, running without headlights, going slow.

  There was a chance. She just had to make him believe her, to get himself up and out before they arrived.

  Halfway through the first ring, Skye heard the line get picked up. There was no response on the other end, the only sound a single inhalation of air.

  That would have to be good enough.

  “They’re coming. Move your ass.”

  Skye could tell there was confusion on the line, another few moments passing as Wynn tried to place her voice, determine who was calling at such an hour, making such a demand of him.

  “Who is this?” he asked, the question so logical it practically galled Skye.

  There was no way she had enough time to explain who she was, explain to him how she knew where he was or why she was now trying to help him. Allowing him to get out even a single extra question would only decrease his life expectancy exponentially.