Hawke's Prey

by Reavis Z. Wortham

  The adult hostages on the opposite side of the courtroom also noticed the change. Heads swiveled toward the class.

  The captors realized something was going on. They rose, alert.

  Stretch walked around the fixed seats and down the center aisle to stand at the bar, beside the swinging gate. “What are they doing?”

  The students fell silent, all except for Matt. The terrorist’s tone and forceful question disturbed the boy who sat up, annoyed. “I need to go to the bat’room.” His diction was muddy, and the guard missed the statement that Kelly understood.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  She flushed. “There’s nothing wrong with him. He was quiet until you came over here. They were all being good.”

  He jerked the muzzle toward the other students. “Why did they quit talking?”

  Kelly rubbed her forehead, feeling the oily sweat from fear and tension. Words she knew she should bite back flowed as if a dam had burst.

  “For the love of God! You’ve been complaining they won’t be quiet, and now that they are, you’re bitching about that. What do you want them to do? Tell me, and I’ll make it happen!”

  The look in his eyes was like flies bumping against a window. “Stand!”

  She rose.

  “Come!”

  Resisting or arguing would make matters worse. Kelly picked her way through the students and stood before Stretch. Something inside the man changed as if a switch had been thrown. He slapped her. The sharp crack staggered her.

  “You don’t speak of God to me, you infidel! Your God is not mine, woman! The only God is Allah!”

  Stunned, the students recoiled. Kelly gathered herself, shocked into immobility and expecting another blow.

  Stretch’s hot breath in her face stank of something she couldn’t identify. His eyes were glassy. “You come with me.”

  Her mouth went dry. “Why?”

  He swiveled the muzzle of his rifle toward her stomach. His Middle Eastern accent thickened. “Because I said to.”

  “No.”

  He pointed at Evangelina Nakai. “Then she comes with me.”

  Kelly watched his eyes rove over the students. He licked his lips and flicked his fingers upward. “You, stand.”

  Trembling, the girl rose, and Kelly shifted to block his view. “Leave her alone.”

  “The girl comes with me.”

  “You’ll have to kill me first.” Kelly’s mind raced. Without looking, she knew her son was preparing to launch at the man pointing a gun at his mother.

  Stretch slapped her again with the sound that cracked off the walls. “I am in charge. I take who I want, when I want, you whore!”

  Kelly closed her eyes. “You want me. Not a child. I’ll go because I want to, Jerry, so relax.”

  Stretch’s hand slipped down to her chest, cupped her breast, and slid down her flat stomach. “Jerry? Why do you call me Jerry?” The rifle barrel rose up her inner thigh. “Are you making fun of me, woman?”

  Kelly gasped. “Sorry. I don’t know why that came out. I’m scared.”

  His voice softened. “Yes. You should be scared. You come to me.”

  Kelly needed to maintain his attention so Evangelina could settle back into the crowd. Any further argument would escalate, bringing her son off the floor in a rush. To keep him from being beaten, or worse, she made sure to catch the eyes of both Jerry and Stephen.

  She was right. Jerry’s face was red with rage.

  Matt crawled through the crowd of students faster than she could have imagined and reached up to grab her blouse. He pulled, trying to keep her with him but tightening the material across her breasts and revealing her bra. “No. Stay with me.”

  Stretch licked his lips again as she urged the boy to release his grip. “It’s all right, honey. Stay right here with Gillian and Evangelina, who needs to turn her back on this room.” She hoped the girl got the message. “Keep them company for me. I’ll be right back.”

  Matt didn’t let go until Gillian put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him. Kelly saw from Gillian’s stricken expression that she knew what was coming. Gillian laid her cheek against Matt’s and closed her eyes. “Will you stay with us until she gets back?”

  Matt rubbed her cheek with a soft hand. “Okay, but I want to go, too.” Evangelina pulled him down beside her and they faced the back wall.

  Kelly pushed the gate. Stretch’s hand shot out and held it closed. “Climb over.”

  Doing her best not to anger him further, she raised up on her toes and straddled the rail. His hand darted out like the strike of a rattlesnake and grabbed a handful of hair. Stretch yanked her close, folding her over the railing. Her eyes filled with pain.

  “Who is in charge here?”

  Tears welled and she tried not to cry. “You!”

  “Who is in charge here?” He tangled his fingers even deeper into her hair, giving her head a violent shake.

  She closed her ears to the anguished screams and groans coming from behind her. “You!”

  “That is right. Over!” He jerked hard and she fumbled over the rail. The wool skirt she wore rode up, her modesty protected only by the tights she wore against the cold. Stretch’s face glistened and he licked his lips. “Yes. You come with me.”

  Jerry rose and started toward his mother.

  Holding the pistol grip of the M4 with one hand, Stretch aimed at him. “Sit down or I will take your head after you watch me take hers!”

  Kelly blinked the tears away and found her balance. She held a hand. “You kids stay there!”

  Bodies rustled as Mr. Beck Terrill rose to his feet, along with three others. Shorty shouldered his weapon. “Down! Everyone down!” He charged forward and threatened the room with shouts and curses in a language none of them understood before reverting back to English. “Sit down!”

  Jerry bent his knees, whether to lunge forward or to sit down, Kelly couldn’t be sure.

  Stretch swung the muzzle toward the high school junior. “Sit you!” He yanked hard at Kelly’s hair.

  She groaned, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Ahhh! Everyone sit!”

  Jerry settled back down without releasing Stretch’s glare. Tension crackled in the air. Kelly feared what might happen after Stretch was finished with her. What was coming had been inevitable since she saw him staring at her.

  Kelly gave in to the fire in her head as Stretch used her hair as a leash, leading her between the fixed chairs toward the conference room in the corner tower. Neck bent and twisted from the pain, she stifled a moan and walked faster to gain some relief.

  He spoke to Shorty in their language and pushed her into the empty room. Shorty’s eyes glinted at the high school girls huddled together.

  * * *

  Mr. Terrill remained upright, glaring at the guard. Those people were in his courthouse, his country.

  The conference room door slammed as loud as a shot.

  Shorty turned his attention from the girls and jabbed the M4 at Mr. Terrill. “Sit or die!”

  The old veteran remembered the North Korean soldiers who did their best to kill him during that bitter December back in 1950. A long-buried rage boiled up, but from the corner of his eyes he saw Jerry and Stephen tensed and ready to launch themselves at their guard and realized that if he did anything at all, it would spark the boys to action.

  Mr. Terrill was tough as a hickory knot, but right then wasn’t the time. He didn’t want the deaths of those kids on his hands.

  He bent his creaky knees. “It’ll be me and you before long, bub.”

  “Sit!”

  “I’m a-doin’ it, but it won’t be fast. Boys, y’all settle down, and I mean it.”

  * * *

  As Mr. Terrill made his way back to the floor, Stretch pushed Kelly inside the conference room and slammed the door behind them. The sounds of a slap came through to those outside.

  Jerry and Stephen turned their attention to the terrorist beside the door. Jerry mouthed. “We go whe
n I say.”

  Stephen’s response was a nod.

  Mary shifted onto one knee. Jerry saw the motion. “Y’all stay down.”

  Her voice rose, and the air became thick with tension. “Shut up. He has Mom!”

  The short terrorist swung to face the new threat. Before they could move, a soft “shave and a haircut” knock captured the man’s interest. The room fell quiet. Jerry shifted into a modified stance with his hands on the floor, ready to launch himself over the rail.

  Stephen followed suit. “I’m hittin’ him high.”

  Keeping the room covered, Shorty backed to the door and grasped the knob. When he pulled it open, the suction caused the door behind the judge’s bench to click shut.

  The noise startled the terrorist.

  “Hey!” The voice came from outside the door.

  Out of position, Shorty whipped back around as what appeared to be a spear lanced through the narrow opening, piercing his eye and going deep into the jihadist’s brain. Letting the M4 drop, he gasped and grabbed the thick spear with both hands. A second thrust was so powerful Shorty’s head snapped back and his feet flew into the air.

  A collective keening rose from the hostages when the recoiling terrorist slammed into the floor. A man dressed similar to their captors followed the spear into the courtroom and pushed harder, driving the end deeper into Shorty’s brain. It appeared that he was trying to force the end through the other side of the dying man’s skull as his contorting body slid on the hardwoods.

  Moans and soft cries from the hostages filled the room as Shorty’s feet drummed the floor, hands grasping at nothing as his brain shorted out.

  The newcomer released the spear and swept the room with a handgun as the hostages recoiled. With one finger, he pulled the scarf down, revealing his face.

  “Dad!” Mary’s voice was firm but not loud.

  Jerry’s voice came from the back of his throat, low and full of anguish. “Dad, hurry! He has Mom in there.” He and Stephen vaulted the bar and charged toward the conference room like linemen off the snap.

  Sonny rushed forward to block the boys and snatched a handful of Jerry’s sleeve to halt his charge. “No! I’ll take care of it.”

  Chapter 67

  I couldn’t believe how easy it was to kill the man at the door. The sharp end of the cane slid through his eye and into his brain as smooth as butter. Putting all my weight behind the curved handle, I jammed it forward, and he fell with a thud.

  I shouldered the door open while maintaining pressure on the polished handle, making sure he wasn’t going to get up again. I’d had enough trouble from those sonsabitches who died hard.

  Somehow the Colt 1911 appeared in my hand and I swept it across the room, looking for targets, but all I could see was terrified hostages. The body kept twitching as I stepped over it, and most everyone in the room recoiled. Jerry and Stephen Haskins were about to rush me, and I realized the nasty rag around my face kept them from seeing who I was.

  I pulled it down, and Mary recognized me. “Dad!”

  The fear in my daughter’s voice cut right through my heart, but I motioned to keep her voice down.

  Jerry and Stephen leaped the rail and charged toward the conference room. They were talking loud enough to be heard on the bottom floor despite the generator. “Dad, hurry! He has Mom in there!”

  I snagged a handful of Jerry’s shirt to slow him down. “Boys, no!” I shouldered them out of the way. “I’ll take care of it.”

  The MP5 hung on my chest on the sling, but the .45 led at high ready. I was through sneaking around. I’d already taken all I was gonna take.

  I hit the door hard with my shoulder. It flew open and I and saw Kelly, blood pouring from her nose and sprawled on the conference table, half-hidden by a man with his back to me. A heavy weight sank in my chest.

  The air thickened and our motions slowed as her hand disappeared under the man’s shemagh to rake his face with her nails. He snarled and jerked his head back and struck her with the sound of a steak hitting the floor. I saw him standing between her legs with his pants around his knees. My wife’s tights were torn and hanging off one leg while the other bare leg raised and bent in an effort to get between his.

  My son shot around me. The guy caught the movement in his peripheral vision and jerked an elbow back to catch Jerry full in the face. The blow knocked my son off his feet. He fell back hard.

  Kelly got her knee against the guy’s chest and pushed him off balance. As he stumbled back, I could see that her face was a mask of blood. He caught a glimpse of me rushing forward and grabbed for the weapon slung around on his back.

  I stepped forward, pushed the muzzle of the .45 against the back of his head, and pulled the trigger.

  His skull acted as a spongy silencer to muffle the detonation and his brains sprayed over the wall beyond the table and he dropped. I registered that my wife’s ripped underwear was dangling around one knee . . . and I saw red.

  Chapter 68

  Feeling antsy, DeVaca knelt beside the maintenance man’s ladder jutting from the hole in the floor. He stopped when Chavez’s voice crackled in his head.

  Angry at the interruption, he felt the Demon rage in the back of his mind. “Go ahead.”

  “It’s confirmed. Bright has killed himself.”

  DeVaca ground his teeth. Chavez’s OCD was distracting him from his duties. He cupped a hand over the earpiece to muffle the generator noise. “You’ve already told me that.”

  “I’m confirming. It blew up on Twitter when someone snapped a photo of his body.”

  DeVaca’s spine tingled. He rolled his head to relieve the tension in his neck and forced his hands to relax. “This isn’t an accurate source of news.”

  “I believe it. The buzz I’m hearing says it’s true. Television picked it up and now it’s all over the news. Every channel.”

  “Well done, then, and thanks for letting me know, again.”

  “We’re way ahead of schedule. Are your people ready?”

  “I said we were. Yes.”

  DeVaca glanced up to see Kahn standing inches from Dorothy. He felt a jolt of jealousy as they talked. Though he couldn’t hear them over the generators, he knew they were planning something against him. The canisters of nerve agent at their feet looked menacing, and he wondered if they intended to use them against him.

  Chavez’s tinny voice cleared up, the static gone. “Like we’ve said, these situations are fluid. It’s time to extract yourself and those you want to preserve.”

  DeVaca watched Dorothy’s blue eyes, thinking that her eyebrows weren’t thick like some of the other women he’d worked with. She agreed with something Kahn said and tilted her head in a way that meant more than business. She glanced up and met DeVaca’s gaze.

  Once again he wondered if her skin would be smooth under his tongue, then firm between his teeth as he bit hard and the former prostitute urged him on with that soft, warm accent telling him to consume her living body bite by bite.

  He drew himself back. “Do you have any further use for the Bright girl?” DeVaca was afraid that Chavez might have discovered another use for the girl. He’d promised DeVaca that he could have her once the congressman announced that he was stepping down.

  “No.”

  DeVaca became excited. His mood swings were shorter, and the one kind of relief that would stabilize him was long overdue. He licked his lips and watched Dorothy’s rear end twitch as she turned to disappear into an office.

  “I will extract now.”

  “Good. You know what to do. I want this to be talked about into the next century, the next cen—.”

  “Out.” DeVaca pressed the comm button. “Tin Man.”

  “Yes?”

  “Is the tunnel cleared to leave?”

  “No.”

  DeVaca’s Demon railed in frustration. He felt the power of that silent shriek in his eyes and eardrums and choked down a real scream of his own. He regained control of the madman squirming i
n his brain and spoke over the din only he could hear. “Why not?”

  “There was a partial collapse. We’re moving some of the debris, but there’s a danger of the walls collapsing even more. I’m looking at a hole big enough to crawl through, but it will be one person at a time. Then we’ll have to pass the canisters through and load them into packs on the other side—and that’s if there’s not another cave-in farther down.”

  “Will you be successful?”

  “I don’t think so. Should we give up down here and try to shoot our way out while we still have the storm for cover?”

  “I’ll have to decide.”

  “Give me five more minutes.”

  Dorothy returned. DeVaca took her arm and leaned in to speak. “Change in plans. Take two men with you and pull those idiots Qambrani and Al-Zahwi away from the hostages. They’ve had it too soft and warm in there for far too long. Have them relieve Mslam on the south entrance. Let’s see how they like it outside.”

  Fear flickered in her eyes, and he realized she’d made a mistake somewhere. He squeezed her arm. “What? I fear you have not performed all the duties I required.”

  Her eyes flashed, and he was sure her brow furrowed behind the hajib. “I’ve done everything you asked.”

  The obvious lie raised DeVaca’s ire. “Then tell me, where are Scarecrow and Lion? I haven’t seen them in far too long.”

  “You keep pulling me away to manage other problems.”

  DeVaca’s mouth twitched. He changed his mind and fell back on a secondary plan to leave Dorothy with the rest. “Check on them now. You better hope everything is quiet up there.”

  “I know what you want.” She waved at Fuentes and Torres, who were finished with their technical duties. “Come with me. I’ll take care of it right now, in a way you’ll approve.”

  She led, taking the stairs two at a time, light as a feather, while the Mexican team members followed with footsteps heavy as anvils.

  DeVaca watched her hips swivel and promised himself that he’d make time to roll those blue eyes of hers in his mouth before they left the building.

  Chapter 69