by Alexie Aaron
I didn't want to tell them that in my dream he was alive. I felt we were on the right track here. "I think that they’ll use him to get the buses. I think that this is plan B, and they need to get their drivers in the seats of those buses and get them armed."
"They could be doing it now," suggested Harry.
I shook my head. "No, because today's Friday, and they still have to transport the children to and from school. The roads are full of potholes out there. They wouldn't risk a premature explosion that would blow Plan B. They're coming for the busses after school tonight."
"How can we find out who’s going to be on those buses without tipping off the bad guys?" Harry asked.
"I think it's time to talk to the feds. At least warn them not to allow any buses from the school in," Dave suggested.
"Or anywhere near civilization, but we don't want to tip off the terrorists. We can't let them regroup."
"Let me just say that there is a strong rumor. Okay, let's call the others and put those priests to work.
Chapter Twenty-five
Due to the late hour, we opted to conference call the Williams's condo instead of meeting. The tinny quality of the speakerphone was difficult to get used to at first. Dave went over what he, Harry and I had discussed, and we sifted through the questions and ideas of the priests, Michael included.
"I think we can all agree that the main goal is to not only stop them from attacking the air show, be it from the air or by bus, but to also capture all involved," Father Thomas spoke with calm authority. "We’re going to have to divide up if we’re going to cover the airport and the school grounds."
"Do you think they’re still going to use the airport?" Dave questioned.
"They have the materials and the manpower. It would be foolish of us to not cover both places."
"My main worry is that there could be a hostage situation at the school if they get wind of us. Cin seems to think that Dwayne is still alive, and they’re using him to access the school."
"Well, we need to put people over there before the school opens. Of course they may be thinking the same thing, but maybe we'll get lucky."
"I think we should find them before they head for the school," I spoke up. "We don't want them anywhere close to those kids."
"How do we do that? We don't know where they are. I think we should split up. Dave, you and Harry head over to the airport. Father Paul and I will meet you there. Father David and Father Peter will recon the school. Michael will liaison between us and the local law enforcement, not to mention the feds."
"Sounds good on this end," Dave said as Harry nodded.
I whispered in Harry's ear that I needed to use his cell, and he gave it to me absentmindedly. I took it into my bedroom and searched Harry's directory for Betty's cell number. I found it and texted her: “I think I can find them…want in? Cin.”
I quickly changed the ring tone to vibrate, and before long I received a message back: “Yes b there by 5am dress tough.”
I sent: “Understood ready @ 5.”
I cleared the messages and call history out of the phone and wandered back into the den. They were still discussing details that didn't involve me, so I gave Harry his phone and headed back into my room where I went into my walk-in closet and reached for my suitcase. Inside I found the small box I hid there after returning from England. In it was one wicked knife, courtesy of Devon/Cornwall's finest.
At four a.m. Dave and Harry quietly left, and at five I thought a thunderstorm had broken out as a Harley Davidson pulled into the driveway. I wasn't surprised to see Betty driving it. Nor was I surprised to see the gun she had pushed into the back of the waistband of her jeans as I climbed aboard the bike. I pulled down her leather jacket to conceal the weapon. I put the helmet on she gave me, more for disguise than safety, and we left my neighborhood and headed west towards Lake Okeechobee.
We had worked out a code of me squeezing her right or left side when I wanted her to turn that direction. With the sun rising behind us, we traveled the roads hunting terrorists.
It was right after we had turned north when I saw a familiar sight. I motioned for Betty to stop. Out in a recently harvested cane field was a USDA Natural Resources Conservation Service survey truck. I took a chance that one of the team would be someone I knew from when I used to work there. I was rewarded by the sight of Sugar Booger - not his name of course, but it was what I called him after finding out this was his wife's pet name for him. He's what the city folks would label a cracker, but they would be oh so wrong. Sugar held a teaching degree in history, knew his bible inside out and would proudly proclaim himself a macho man. I doubted this, knowing how he washed the floors of the house for his wife. Sugar would shake his head and say this was because he didn't want his wife to do heavy chores. Well, we all could use a little more of his attitude around here, I think.
I took off my helmet and carefully made my way through the muck field. I didn't have to announce my presence as he had me in the site of his viewer before I even got off the bike.
"Well, if it isn't Cindy Fin-Lathen," he said, readjusting his tripod.
He was the only one I allowed to call me Cindy, all six feet 2 inches of him. "Sugar Booger, you ready to run off with me yet?"
He colored. "Now what would the misses have to say about that?" He looked back at Betty who was adjusting something on the hog. "You mind telling me what you're doing up so early, dressed up like a Hell’s Angel?"
"Charmer. Actually, it's a lame disguise. My friend and I are looking for a group of landscapers that are up to no good."
"I heard you were running around the world cutting people up. These guys you're looking for nasty?" Sugar wiped his brow with a crisp handkerchief.
"The nastiest. They have a friend of mine. I think they're going to kill him, maybe kill a lot of friends of mine," I said, looking him in the eyes.
"I know I shouldn't ask, but isn't this a job for Superman?"
"Superman's busy looking elsewhere." I kicked a muck clod with my boot.
"Don't know if these are your fellas, but a week or so ago, Jimmy and I were fishing along the east shore, and we saw a group of campers that were a bit too organized. They had landscape trucks, and, in my opinion, the trucks were a bit too dirty and the wheels too new to fit the job."
"East bank, that's a lot of shoreline."
Sugar Booger pulled something out of his back pocket. "Cindy girl, do you remember this little gadget?"
"It's your GPS locator. You don't mean…"
"I caught a lot of fish in that spot. I made a note." He reached in his flannel shirt pocket and pulled out a well-worn notebook. He flipped through the pages. "Yep, here it is." He looked at me and wagged his finger. "Don't get so antsy, I need to make an adjustment or else you're going to head to my fishing spot and not the camp." He scribbled down some figures, then copied down the adjusted location and handed it to me.
"This is the GPS location?"
"Yep, I'd say correct to eight or nine feet," he said proudly.
"How'd I get there if I don't have a GPS on me?" I asked sweetly.
"Cindy girl, you're just not prepared. Okay, take the road past the airport but slow down after you pass the old Sinclair station. The second dirt road on the left should get you close. I'd leave that noisy bike near the main road or you're gonna wake those boys up. Continue on foot, the camp grounds should be 200 yards in, give or take five feet." He smiled.
I gave him a big hug. "Thank you."
"I hope thems your boys. I'd say be careful, but you won't. I guess that one," He said pointing to Betty, "can take care of his... herself."
"Yes, she can. Say hi to Jimmy for me."
"Oh, I will. Can't wait to tell him that I saw two dykes on a bike just as the sun came up. He won't believe me. Take care. I don't want to have to fish you out of my spot."
"You won't," I assured him.
"Don't tell anyone about that fishing spot either."
"I won't," I said as I trudg
ed back through the field towards Betty.
"That's a fine looking man you were talking to," Betty said, handing me my helmet.
"If you add observant to that I'll agree with you." I showed her the coordinates he had given me. "I know how to get there. Do you think we should call it in?"
"How sure is he that these are our terrorists?"
"Not sure."
"Maybe we better check it out first," she said, which pleased me because that's how I wanted to handle it anyway.
We got on the bike, and I waved to Sugar Booger who was shaking his head. I wondered if he could read lips. I filled the thought as Betty and I headed out towards the airport.
I ran several scenarios in my head as we traveled. One: if they were all there, we would have to beat feet and call it in. Two: if only some of the group was there, then we would have to play it by ear. I still thought beating feet backwards was a good idea even if there was only one guy there as these zealots were just as bad alone as in a group. And three: It could prove to be the wrong guys. In that case we would have to continue searching.
A thought struck me, as hard as several of the bugs that now adorned my helmet, that someone at the airport had to be in on this. Someone had to have made the offer to Dwayne. But who? If we got to Dwayne in time he could tell us. Unless Dwayne was in on this, then we were in for a most interesting time.
We flew by the airport, and soon we were at the turnoff. Betty cut the engine and let the bike roll as far as the momentum would take us on the dirt road. We got off and turned the bike so it faced towards the highway before covering it up with some brush. Betty and I worked in silence, and as we headed down towards the camp she put a comforting arm briefly around me. I nodded and took a deep breath. Show time.
Chapter Twenty-six
We heard some activity as we approached the camp. I motioned for Betty to circle to the right as I went left. I borrowed this procedure from what I had seen on Star Gate, and well, it worked for them.
The camp was a combination of cabins on high ground and others on stilts. On the north side there were an array of outhouses, each in a different stage of disrepair. The main office was shuttered, and a big padlock adorned the door, along with a sign indicating that the owner had gone fishing in Wisconsin and the grounds were closed.
As I came around the back of the office I saw a landscaping truck similar to the ones I had seen at the airport. I looked through the window and, yes, the keys were in it. I quietly circled the truck, and after I determined there was no one close by I eased myself through the window far enough to grab the keys. I stuck them in the only place I could guarantee they wouldn't make noise, down the front of my shirt. They bit into my flesh, but they would be secure. I eased myself back to the ground and continued my surveillance.
In the center of the camp was a picnic pavilion enclosed on three sides by screens and the fourth by a brick wall that doubled as a windbreak. Inside were several long picnic tables and on them a couple of long boxes. I almost didn't see the figure lounging against the wall with his back to me. If he wasn't smoking, I wouldn't have seen him at all.
Okay, that's one. Too soon to tell much about him except that he was dark skinned. Moving on and keeping the brick wall between me and the landscaper, I rounded the back of one of the stilted cabins. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out, shielding my body from sight alongside a trash barrel.
I read: “2 in cabin 4”
I typed back: “1 and boxes in picnic pavilion – send gps to michael.” I knew she would have to leave the area as a phone conversation was necessary to explain things to Michael.
"Leaving now - u coming?"
"No - looking for Dwayne."
"Be careful, back soon."
I tucked the phone away and continued to check the cabins. I didn't bother with the ones that had undisturbed debris covering the steps. Even though I could see in the windows of most of the stilted cabins, I chose instead to slide under them and listen for movement. I prayed I wouldn't disturb any critters that would want to take a bite out of me. As far as I could tell, the cabins nearest the lake were not being put to use. There was just the two on either side of cabin four to check out. I was just about to make my move across the compound when I heard in the distance the hog starting up. This brought the two men out of cabin four.
They walked over to the pavilion, talking loudly to the cigarette smoking man who was pointing up the drive. Since he wasn't wildly gesturing, I knew at least that Betty had made it up to the bike unobserved. But they would be concerned about the noise and where it had come from.
I squatted in my cramped position ready to flee until the three men calmed down. There was an exchange between the men, and the smoking man left with one from the cabin, leaving the other to watch over the boxes. I saw to my dismay that they both were walking in my direction. I had to pick one of the outhouses to hide behind, and the smoking man entered a one-holer while the other man continued on back to cabin four.
It seemed like a day had passed by the time the cigarette guy left the john. I waited the whole time, barely breathing. Women train themselves to make no noise when they hear someone else enter the ladies room - it isn't ladylike - so I was able to go the duration undetected. He went back to the boxes, and his replacement left the pavilion.
I hoped he would go back to cabin four, but instead he passed the cabin and went into cabin five on the north side. I used this opportunity to cross the distance from the port-a-johns to the line of cabins. I moved around the back of cabin five, watching the ground carefully as one misstep would alert them to my presence. I heard the man dragging something around in there. I heard some groaning and a sharp intake of breath followed by a one-sided conversation in a language I'd never heard. The groaning stopped. I heard a faint, "Water."
A man laughed and said in broken English. "You think me Holiday Inn." I heard the crack of someone opening a plastic bottle and then, "Open."
The sound of a man drinking until he choked confirmed that the English speaking man was being fed the water. So, maybe just maybe, this was where they were holding Dwayne? I waited until the terrorist left cabin five and entered four before moving.
I couldn't get in the front door because not only was the entrance in plain sight of the pavilion but also of cabin four. I crawled around the back and was rewarded with a break in the skirting of the crawlspace below the cabin. Light streamed between the floorboards. I could tell where chairs and tables rested because of the blocks of shade that appeared on the crawlspace's floor. In the north back corner there was a long shadow. I eased myself over until I was underneath it. I put my ear up and listened. I could hear breathing. Whatever it was, it was alive. I was hoping for a who and not an it. It would just be my luck to try and liberate an alligator.
I lifted my head and put my cheek against the floor and quietly hummed part of the baritone solo from Troika and waited. I was rewarded with a faint continuation of the passage. Okay, now that I had found Dwayne, how the hell was I going to get him out? The cabin's floor was laid out on two-by-six boards, fourteen inches on center, which should have allowed me enough room to enter the cabin from below if I were able to pop a couple of boards up and out. I quietly poked and prodded at the underside of the boards until I felt one give, and I smiled - as it only takes one.
I had no upper body strength, and I couldn't pound it up with anything as the noise would have alerted the men in cabin four. So I laid down and placed my booted feet on the weak spot and used my thigh muscles and pushed upwards. I used a bit too much strength as the board popped off the beam and clattered to the floor. I quickly turned around to prepare to leave in a hurry, but the sound of Troika reassured me that I hadn't been found out. I went to work on the boards on either side. When I had made a hole big enough for my head to get through, I got up and cautiously raised my head through the space and looked around.
Dwayne was bound with duct tape, unoriginal but effective. He had two black eyes
and his arms were covered with tiny burns. “Cigarette Man,” I thought. He rolled sideways and made eye contact with me. I pointed to my eyes and the door, and he nodded, understanding that he would have to be the lookout. He motioned with his head to the right of me. I turned and saw an explosive device just sitting there five feet from the boards I was banging on.
Just then my phone vibrated. I sunk back under the cabin and read the text message: “Feds in 6 min.”
I quickly answered: “Bomb in c5 & pavilion – Dwayne in c5 almost out.”
I fell back and started to remove as many boards as I could. I squeezed myself up through the hole, ignoring the frantic vibration from the cell phone. I crawled over to Dwayne and pulled my knife from my boot and released his bonds.
"We have to move fast," I whispered as I rubbed his limbs to help get the circulation going. "Can you fit down my rabbit hole?"
"I'll have to fit," he said hoarsely.
"K. Follow me and be quiet," I hissed as I dropped down into the crawl space.
Dwayne ripped up his right shoulder on the way down, but he made it and was on my heels as I crawled out into the sunlight. We crawled, hugging the building until we could see the compound. I shook my head as I saw Cigarette Man standing outside the pavilion. I backed up and saw no other way for us to go but into the swampy wooded area that was between the highway and us. The other alternative was the lake. I decided I would rather take my chances with snakes than a bull alligator.
I felt a vibration. I quickly opened my phone and read: “Get out.”
I returned it with: “Am out.”
It was then that all hell broke loose. I heard vehicles coming down the drive and a helicopter overhead. I looked back through the trees, still moving in the direction of the road, when cabin five blew up. The blast shattered the woods behind us, and the force hurtled Dwayne and I off the ground. Dwayne hit a Cypress tree, me the water. Good thing for my mermaid training because it took me awhile to figure out which way was up. When I broke the surface I saw Dwayne slumped against the tree.