by Roger Hayden
“Okay,” she said, pulling herself together. “Let’s go, girls.”
She tried to move, but both Chassity and Lisa had attached themselves to her and looked unwilling to let go. The possibility of ISIS militants still within the compound had her on edge. There were still the two guards Burke had tied up at the first entrance—part of her initial plan to avoid a shootout. In a way, she realized that the outcome was set from the beginning. There was no avoiding it. Death was all the terrorists seemed to know and understand. At least that’s what she was starting to believe.
“Come on,” she said, rising.
Chassity, her eldest, released her grip and looked up. “They told us that Dad was dead. Is that true?”
Lisa kept her face buried into her mother’s waist, crying with a muffled whimper. Angela patted her head and gently tried to pry her away. She couldn’t possibly carry the children out of there and protect them at the same time. Plus, the documents in her hand were invaluable. Burke had said the power plant attack was inevitable. Only hours away. And with Asgar’s escape, she was certain the attack would be initialized even sooner than planned.
“Let’s go,” she said, taking Lisa’s hand.
“Mom?” Chassity asked again. “What happened to Dad?” She wasn’t going to let the question go.
Angela opened her mouth to speak, when a faint barrage of gunfire broke out down the corridor near Asgar’s room. She stuffed the documents in the waistband of her black jeans and squeezed both girls’ hands, hurrying to the door.
“What’s that?” Lisa said in a small, panicked voice. Angela could feel the girl’s hand shaking in her own. It broke her heart to see her daughters in so much distress.
She tried to remain calm on the outside as her heart raced in frantic, rhythmic beats.
“It’s okay. Just keep your heads down.”
The shooting stopped for a moment and then resumed in quick three-round bursts. Angela had one thought: Get the hell out of there and never turn back.
She led the frightened girls out of their dank holding cell and immediately turned to the right, where the corridor led to the compound’s exterior exit. Three bullet-riddled bodies lay to the side; guards Burke had dispatched earlier.
“Look down, sweeties. I’ll guide you,” Angela said, maintaining a hurried pace.
She did her best to suppress the urge to run, and couldn’t have anyway, with her daughters both holding her hands. They had to move as one. There was no other way.
Angela caught Chassity glancing at the bodies, while Lisa’s eyes remained tightly shut in fear. They made it past to the first door, where empty bullet shells littered the concrete ground. Angela released Chassity’s hand and made a quick move for the handle. Fortunately, it was still unlocked.
“I tried my best not to be afraid,” Chassity said with a sullen, serious expression Angela had never seen before. “When we were locked in that room. I didn’t want to show them fear.”
Angela brought her close with a quick hug. “You did great, honey. You both did.”
She opened the door and guided them through. The gunfire had stopped, and for that she was relieved, but the possibility of Burke’s being killed gripped her with fear. It was impossible to think that anyone could take Burke out. The man seemed invincible, but still ...
Angela hurried along, daughters in tow, down the long, narrow tunnel, when two men came into view, bound by their wrists and ankles. Chassity stopped dead in her tracks as Lisa froze with fear. The men looked up, twisting in agony. Their faces were drenched with sweat, and their muffled pleas were unintelligible due to the duct tape over their mouths.
“Come on,” Angela said to her daughters. “It’s okay. Let’s keep going.”
She moved ahead as they reluctantly followed. The men’s arms were wounded and bloodied from Burke’s silencer pistol. Their desperate pleas intensified as Angela passed them—eyes forward and trying her best to maintain momentum. Chassity and Lisa looked away, holding their mother’s hand tightly. The final door was in view. And from there, a brief climb out of the landfill-sized crater filled with junk cars, oddly placed there as though they were a part of the natural landscape.
Angela quickened her pace as her girls struggled to keep up. Once at the door, she pulled a large iron bar to the side, unlocking the door, and then opened it. It was early morning and the fresh air was immediately soothing. She led the girls outside as they squinted their eyes in the morning sun that lit one side of the crater.
The spectacle of old, rusty vehicles spread out like tombstones in a graveyard was very different from at night, or in the early morning when Angela had first arrived. It felt as though she had been submerged in the cavernous hideout for hours. But by her more realistic estimate, the harrowing rescue operation had taken little over thirty minutes.
She had her daughters now, and that was all that ever mattered. What they had done with Doug’s body, she may sadly never know. As she walked up the slope, hoisting Lisa against her shoulder, carrying her, the desire for vengeance seethed within her. They had killed her husband. Her soulmate. Her world. And though she and Burke had killed many of them, it wasn’t enough. Deep down inside, she worried that it would never be enough.
“Come on, guys. We’re almost there,” she said to the wary children, who both seemed in a state of shock. She kept her voice as calm and caring as possible, not wanting to push them beyond what they were capable of.
They reached the top of the crater with labored breaths. Angela set Lisa down and wiped the sweat from her own forehead. It all felt surreal. How could she even begin to tell her superiors at the Border Patrol what had happened? That was, if she even had a job left.
“Car’s that way,” she said, pointing to a black four-door parked behind some bushes. Chassity asked about her father again in an exhausted voice, and no matter how much Angela had prepared herself to tell them the truth, she didn’t feel ready.
“I’ll explain everything soon, honey,” she said. “First we need to find a safe place.”
After crossing the border into New Mexico, Angela found a motel in the small town of Las Cruces. She was eager to get her daughters showered and in bed. They also needed food. The time they had been apart was the longest two days of her life. Naturally, Chassity and Lisa just wanted to go home, and Angela was faced with trying to explain the best she could.
“It’s not safe right now. We’re just going to stay here for a little bit so you guys can get some rest.”
From the queen-sized bed, sitting in the middle of their green-carpeted room, Chassity reached over and hit the nightstand with her fist.
“I don’t want to stay here. I want to see Dad!”
Lisa hadn’t said much of anything during the hour-long drive. From her pillow, her eyes darted over to her sister with a look of fear. Angela stood at the end of the bed, shuffling on the carpet and reeling with the truth she had no choice but to reveal.
“I heard him!” Chassity continued. “He came to our door. He was trying to reach us.” Her words sounded hopeful. Yearning. And ultimately tragic.
Angela held back her tears as best she could, but her eyes watered nonetheless. Chassity stared at her with expectant, wide brown eyes.
“Your father…” Angela began. “He won’t be coming back.”
Chassity was quick to respond. “What do you mean, he won’t be coming back?”
The crushing blow of reality set in for Angela. She thought of the video and how, one way or the other, her daughters would someday learn and possibly see what happened.
“He was a brave man,” Angela continued. “And he loved you both very much.”
Lisa began crying as if just then realizing what Angela was saying.
Chassity, on the other hand, displayed nothing but rage. “Who were those people?” she shouted. “Why did they take us? What did we ever do to them?” But she could hold back no longer, and the tears began to flow and her voice quivered. “Oh no…” she said, as her head drooped and h
er eyes closed. “He’s dead. He’s really dead.”
Chassity cried along with Lisa. Angela rose from the bed and rushed over to them with her arms open. The girls climbed to her, hands gripping at her shirt as they cried into her shoulders. She rubbed their backs and murmured reassurances. Their long, knotted hair hung over their faces as they sobbed uncontrollably.
“There, there,” Angela said, feeling the dampness of their tears. “Everything is going to be okay. We’re together now, and that’s all that matters. We need to stay strong. Things will never be the same, but we have to try.” Her own words sounded distant and foreign to her, as though she were in a dream.
“He tried to save us,” Chassity said between sobs.
She brushed back Chassity’s hair and kissed her forehead. There was little comfort, she felt, she could bring them. As she sat with her daughters on the bed and held them, she felt the overwhelming duty of the task before her. There were still thousands, if not millions, of lives still at stake. She had yet to hear from Burke, and she feared calling the Border Patrol station. Yet, she had to do something.
3
Tough Decisions
With the girls both finally asleep, Angela crept outside their second-floor hotel room and stood on the balcony, cell phone in hand. It was already evening, and she was stricken with worry, despite her daughters’ miraculous rescue. She wondered about the supposed drone strikes on suspected sleeper-cell locations. Was it all a farce? Something Burke made up?
It wasn’t just his word she had taken. She had seen the presidential directive authorizing the strikes in her hands. If it were true, she knew just how lucky she was to get the girls out in time. However, the lingering question in her mind remained: did the government know about the underground compound? And if so, did Burke make it out in time?
Part of her felt bad for the two men she had left, slowly bleeding from their arm wounds, tied up and helpless, but that was the price for taking her daughters, she supposed.
Her thumb hovered over her cell phone contacts listed on the screen. She felt a responsibility to contact Chief Drake at the Del Rio Border Patrol station. But without an update from Burke, she felt unprepared to update her superiors. How much could she reveal, if anything at all?
She knew from the beginning that once she joined Burke’s mission, there was no going back to her job. No going back to a normal life, but she had to share Asgar’s plans with the authorities. Millions of lives were at stake. How much longer could she wait before making the call? How many other lives could be lost if she failed to do the right thing?
She stared out into the quiet parking lot below trying to reach a decision. A steady pace of vehicles passed by in the two-lane street beyond the hotel. Everything seemed so calm and at peace, she didn’t want to change that by making a very difficult call to the station.
She called Burke again, hoping he’d pick up, but the call went immediately to voice mail. His phone must have died some time ago. “Damn it, Burke,” she said after the beep.
She set the phone down on the railing of the balcony as a gust of wind blew her hair into her face. She brushed it back with one hand and sighed. There was no stalling any longer. Chief Drake had to know what was happening. She wasn’t going to tell him everything. That was for sure, but he would endlessly probe her for details. He was good at that, and she had to be ready. She brought his office number up on the screen and pressed “Call.”
“Here we go,” she said under her breath. It seemed ages since she had last talked to him, when in actuality, it had been little over twenty-four hours.
After three rings, he picked up, voice urgent as always, but sounding distracted. “Del Rio Border Patrol… Chief Drake speaking.”
“Sir, this is Agent Gannon.”
A predictable pause, then Drake again, this time sounding rushed. “Gannon? What is it?”
There were other voices audible in the background. She pictured his office, packed with officials and full of commotion. It had been that way the past couple of days. Like her, Drake never seemed to sleep.
“And where the hell have you been?” he asked in an angrier tone.
Ah. Now we get to the good stuff.
“I’m sorry I missed your calls. I’ve been busy,” she answered.
“Oh, I bet,” he shot back. “Pulled a complete disappearing act. Now what is it? We’re dealing with a hell of a crisis here.”
She could only imagine what he was referring to. “I’m…” she began, unsure of where to start. She had it all rehearsed, but his tone had thrown her off. “I have some information I need to share with you.”
“Bring it in. The FBI has been asking about you. Special Agent Burke, too. Just where the hell have you been? Have you seen him? The two of you…” He paused. “I don’t know what to do with either of you.”
She could have told him everything then and there. That she had gone outside government channels and rescued her daughters. That Burke had killed more than a dozen terrorists. That their British insider, who called himself Graves, was long dead. That they had discovered a compound and killed every terrorist standing in their way. That Salah Asgar may have escaped, ready to launch a series of deadly attacks.
She could have said all that, but instead told him, “The ISIS cells are ramping up their attacks. I have detailed times and locations.”
“Well, damn it, Agent Gannon, what did I tell you? Get in here now.”
He had said nothing about her daughters. Had he forgotten already? His demands and lack of concern were signs for Angela that she had done the right thing in going on her own, but there would be consequences. That, she was sure of.
“I’m not going anywhere near that station, understand?” she said, anger rising. “The entire state of Texas is in grave danger from these attacks. Now, do you want to help stop them or not?”
Another pause, a sign that the chief was clearly taken aback. “What are you talking about? What attacks? Where?” he said, and then his voice drifted off as he turned away from the phone to say something to someone else in his office.
“My daughters,” Angela said loudly, still incensed. “Are you listening? Do you remember them? Whatever happened with that?”
“Gannon, you’re all over the place,” Drake said. It was clear she didn’t have his whole attention. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you the past twelve hours. Burke has disappeared too. Now you call me with this doomsday stuff.”
“They’re going after the Dallas power plant,” Angela said, tiring of the back and forth and getting nowhere. “We’ve got only a matter of hours to stop them.”
“I’m tracking that,” Drake said, surprising her. “All power plants, water plants, and potential terror targets are on high alert. Especially after this latest incident.”
Angela was immediately concerned. “What incident?”
“The mosque shooting. What else would I be talking about?”
“I’m sorry, mosque shooting?” Angela asked, stunned.
“Yeah. Over fourteen Muslims dead during a prayer session. Retaliation against ISIS.”
“I don’t understand… Where? Who?”
“Garland mosque. Some nut job. There’s a huge manhunt for him now. He’s still on the loose.”
Angela felt a familiar sickness in the pit of her stomach. The news came out of nowhere and threw her completely off track.
“I can’t believe it. Retaliation for what?”
“From what the news reports say, it was a response to the ISIS video. The one with your husband…” Drake suddenly paused, realizing, it seemed, the images his words would trigger. “I’m sorry, Agent Gannon. Look, it’s a madhouse here. A real crisis. Terror alert is at its highest. We’re still working on finding your daughters, but Burke… he was spearheading that, and he’s since disappeared.”
“They’re looking for soft targets,” she told him. “Open venues and such.” It had just occurred to her that it was Memorial Day. A Monday. What a terrible ti
me for the country to be under attack. “I can send you all the information I have. These attacks will happen soon. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“Where are you?” Drake asked, sounding suspicious.
Above all, Angela wasn’t prepared to tell him. If the terrorists could find her family once, she was certain that they’d try again. The only person she trusted was Burke, and he had fallen even more off the radar. “I can’t say,” she said matter-of-factly. “There’s a lot I can’t say right now, but these attacks need to be stopped, or millions could die.”
Drake sighed as the cross-chatter in his office continued. “Agent Gannon, I’m ordering you to come into the station. Not in the mood for games right now.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t do that.”
Yet another pause, a long one. In regard to her job, she had officially reached the point of no return.
“I’m not sure I’m following,” Drake said.
Angela felt she was in the midst of a hopeless battle. Something was going to have to give. “I’m safe where I’m at for now. The entire area is too dangerous. That’s how serious this is.” She could envision him shaking his head in frustration.
“What is your source for this information, exactly?” Drake asked.
She was prepared for the question but still unsure of how to answer it. “I’ve been doing some investigating myself,” she replied. “And I came across some official plans.”
Drake, it seemed, was putting together the pieces. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with Burke’s disappearance also, would it? Captain Reynolds said that she saw you two leave together yesterday.”
Her response was simple. “Burke is not with me.”
Some more cross-chatter filled Drake’s office. Eager to get off the call, he continued. “Look. I expect to see you here within an hour. Those are your orders, and you can disregard them at your peril. Rest assured, all targets, soft and hard, are on high alert. Now would be the absolute worst time for ISIS to try something.” Somehow his certainty had failed to convince her.