The Warning

by Saul, Jonas

  She’d find it.

  And when she did she had no idea how to break Esmerelda or Dolan out.

  All she knew was she had to.

  Chapter 34

  Sam hobbled up the small hallway. Sunlight shone through the door near the front. He heard nothing and saw no movement. Even though his leg still oozed blood and was mostly numb below the tourniquet, he felt he could do this. He knew he needed to have his leg looked at. He also knew he should untie the tourniquet and then redo it, to allow some blood flow to the healthy part of his leg, but he didn’t want to waste the time. With everyone supposed to be leaving he didn’t know if he was out of time.

  He got to the door and peered through the small window. No one close. Sweat covered the hand that held the gun aloft. His left hand, blood still coloring it red, gripped the door handle and eased it in a full turn to open the door.

  It didn’t make a sound. Within seconds he was outside. He scouted the entire field before him and saw no movement. The area looked barren. All he could see were small buildings that looked like extra-large outhouses lined up in two rows, side-by-side. Trees surrounded the rear of the buildings. From where he stood Sam could see all the doors were sitting wide open.

  Not a single vehicle was in sight, nor did he see any hostiles.

  Sweat was starting to be a problem. He could feel the rush of what had happened back in that room starting to wear off. The loss of blood wasn’t helping. If he didn’t see anyone soon, or get to a phone, he knew he could be in serious trouble out here by himself.

  He leaned against the building, weight on his shoulder, and edged up the wall toward the large hangar that sat adjacent to it.

  The warmth of the sun beat at the cold clammy feeling that threatened to overcome him, but the sun was losing. Funny how he could feel so cold, but sweat so much.

  Five feet from the hangar door a wave of dizziness hit him. Both hands were needed to keep him upright as he leaned into the wall, shut his eyes and tried to remain calm.

  “I see you have dispatched my colleague.”

  He opened his eyes with a start and jumped off the wall. The dizziness returned, stronger, as he swiveled his head looking for the owner of the voice. Both his hands gripped the weapon. He steadied himself on his good leg, waiting for a bullet to hit him. Was he hearing things? Did someone actually speak?

  Befuddled, he moved, his leg warning him of imminent collapse. The hangar door was within reach. He saw now that the glass had been lifted and the screen was open. Whoever had spoken a moment before was inside the hangar, talking through the screen.

  Heroics weren’t his thing. He was the cop who always called for backup. In order to continue to protect and serve he’d tried his best to go by the book. One of the rare times that he’d gone off the rails was four years ago and he’d almost died because of it.

  But it was different now. For one thing, the wound in his leg could prove to be fatal if he didn’t get medical attention soon. Also, he’d volunteered to an exchange for the Roberts knowing his chances of going home were slim.

  With an over-inflated sense of justice, Sam ripped open the door and charged into the hangar with his remaining strength and a belief that everything would work out.

  He lost his balance and fell hard, the concrete floor unforgiving. There were no options but to accept defeat. He landed hard on his right shoulder, let a small grunt of protest escape his lips, and brought the gun up to aim at any potential targets.

  “That won’t be necessary. You’re wounded. There’s no fight left in you. Let it go, just let it go.”

  Looking at the hangar sideways he saw the speaker was the guy with weird glasses who had first met him when he arrived.

  There was a small Cessna in the hangar and one black SUV. It was difficult to tell, but Sam felt he could see at least two heads in the backseat of the SUV turned toward him. Venturing a guess, he figured it was Esmerelda and Dolan.

  He looked back at the creep. Now a gun was trained on him too.

  “Drop your weapon,” Glasses said, his mouth twisted up in a sly smile.

  Sam could see the guy’s trigger finger was moving. He wasn’t going to wait. The guy was going to shoot anyway. At this range, the more competent of the two was the man standing.

  With probably a few seconds of air left, Sam lowered his weapon and said, “Where are the girls?”

  “The girls?”

  “Yeah, the girls. Where are they? Have you already shipped them to your new recreational club?”

  “Oh, you needn’t mind yourself with the welfare of such nubiles. Everything is being taken care of. I think what should be important to you right now is your own safety. Move the gun away from you.”

  Sam tossed the weapon away from him. It clanged down on the cement floor and rolled about a foot. He dropped his head to the floor, defeated.

  He knew how to enter a room, how to clear a room. There was no death wish here. In the end he blamed it on delirium, exhaustion and a sense of safety with the gun in one hand and the compound appearing empty.

  “What were you hoping to achieve in the state you’re in, hmm?”

  “Just tell me about your captives. If you’re going to shoot me anyway, tell me about your captives. Let me die with the knowledge so I won’t die for nothing.”

  “Demanding. Even as you bite a bullet, demanding. Hmm, okay, let’s do a trade. You will save me some time if you tell me what happened in the room with my interrogator. Tell me the truth and I will give you something of a truth.”

  “He was weak and lazy. No one patted me down. I came here with a knife. I used it to slice open your interrogators throat.”

  Glasses stepped back and looked at the SUV. He pulled his gun back and put it into his pants.

  “The captives are gone. They’re en-route to our new community where they will join a batch of elite customers and business will remain as usual. Now that Sarah Roberts is dead I will have to milk every bit of psychic ability out of these two. Otherwise, Mr. Johnson, I will be leaving you here, alive. You probably won’t make the night and since our establishment is so well hidden, you won’t be found for quite some time. I don’t believe in allowing my enemy the pleasure of a quick death.”

  Glasses started to walk away but Sam stopped him with his bellow.

  “Wait!” Then, after collecting himself, he continued, “Sarah Roberts is dead?”

  He could tell that Glasses was enjoying this as he turned back to Sam. Then it hit him. He wasn’t going to leave Sam alive after all. This bait and switch game was a rhetoric that Glasses enjoyed. It was written all over his face.

  “Oh, I was sure you would’ve heard. Sarah escaped and made it to our rest house about five miles from here. She burned down with the house. Such a promising girl. From what I’ve heard we could’ve done great things with her. But alas, she isn’t with us anymore.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Sam mumbled.

  “I’m sorry. Say again?”

  “I said I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Sarah is resilient. I’ve seen her escape from easier things than a fire. You might want to get some confirmation.”

  “Oh, but I did,” Glasses said as he raised his right finger high in the air. “I was contacted by my men who were ordered to burn the house down. They confirmed she was on the top floor. The last contact I had wasn’t too long ago.”

  “I still think you’re wrong,” Sam said as he felt even weaker. He rested his head on the cement and closed his eyes. Maybe the end would be welcoming.

  Without opening his eyes, he detected movement close to him. Then he heard the sound of the hammer clicking into place. The smell of an oily metal substance was close to his face.

  This is it.

  Then, as he anticipated a bullet, all hell broke loose from the area of the SUV.

  Chapter 35

  Parkman’s phone rang. He sat watching the road from the truck stop, gnawing on a new pick. When he saw it was Jill on call display, he
answered.

  “What do you have?”

  “Probably nothing, but the only serious call in the last twenty-four hours was a house fire just off of Route 9. What piqued my interest was the area. It’s remote and perfect for the suspects to operate in. Also, no one called in the fire until a passer-by saw the smoke. Oh wait, I’m getting another call.”

  Parkman turned his car back on and waited. Whichever way this fire was he needed to know so he could get there and have a look around.

  “Parkman, where are you right now,” Jill came back on with an urgency to her voice.

  “In a truck stop. It’s called Mackie’s Truck and Tow. It has a little restaurant too.”

  “Okay, one sec,” Jill said and paused. A moment later, “Good, I see where you are on the map. Leave now and head two miles east. You’ll come to a side road. Turn right and drive for half a mile.”

  Parkman put the car in gear and raced out of the parking lot squealing his tires. He hit the highway and brought the cruiser up to eighty before asking, “What am I looking for?”

  “There’s a parallel road to Route 9 called Martin Road. The house fire is on Martin Road. The volunteer Fire Department are still trying to get the fire under control, but they found two bodies: one strangled with a belt, and the other shot in the throat in the front yard. There has to be a connection. But I want you to go to a house that’s about two miles from the fire.”

  “Why is that? I don’t understand.”

  “When I was on the phone with the fire department dispatcher a moment ago, one of my people intercepted a 911 call from a woman who said someone was prowling her yard.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Parkman said as he took his exit. “Why do you want me to go to a prowler call?”

  “Because the woman said it was a black SUV and the plate number matches one of the plates stolen from the teacher’s neighborhood. With two dead guys at the fire and an SUV at this woman’s house, you’re the closest officer to that SUV. Keep your eyes peeled because the call came in four minutes ago. You may come upon this SUV. I gotta go, but call me as soon as you have something.”

  The phone went dead just as Parkman saw the sign for Martin Road. He couldn’t remember which way she said to turn. Jill didn’t confirm the woman’s address with him. Maybe that’s why things go south for Special Agent Jill Hanover, because she mishandles information.

  On instinct, he turned right and raced along the dirt road. In under a minute he saw smoke in the distance. He lowered his sunglasses and stared at the smoke. That meant he was close to the house with the prowler… or it was two miles on the other side of the fire.

  He started looking for a driveway. Within a minute he spotted one and turned up it. The road was long and winding. The siren and lights came on as he flicked the switches. Out here, in an unmarked cruiser, he didn’t want anyone to misconstrue who he was. Also, he had no backup so he needed to come in strong if he was literally walking into a fight. These guys were cop killers. Parkman was the first of many officers who were conducting a manhunt to find them and he was the closest so he had to act before they got far.

  He also knew Jill and numerous other agents were en-route right now.

  A house came into view. He flipped off the sirens but left the lights on. Just as he stopped out front, a woman who looked to be in her twenties opened the door.

  Parkman got out, did a quick scan of the area and stepped toward her.

  “Ma’am, did you call in a suspicious vehicle prowling around your premises?”

  “Yes I did. They drove up the driveway, stopped and stared and then drove around to the back where the driver turned around and left. It was odd so I called it in. It was creepy, like they were checking the place out.”

  “Do you have any idea which way they turned, left or right?”

  “I can’t see the road from here so no, but I can tell you they probably turned right.”

  “How would you know that?” Parkman asked as he glanced over his shoulder. Martin Road was lost to the trees. There was no way to see the road from the house.

  “Because if you go left, it’s a dead end about three miles down. The only house down that way is the Renfeld place and I can see the smoke from here. Going right will take you three miles to the old abandoned airport and I…”

  Parkman didn’t hear the rest as he dropped back into his car. A quick glance at the woman confirmed a frown on her face as she had no idea why this officer was in such a hurry. An old abandoned airport was the perfect place to stash vehicles and people, especially if they had an airplane hangar still there.

  At the end of the driveway Parkman turned right and raced down Martin Road away from the house fire. He passed the road back to Route 9 and continued on, hoping to catch a much needed break in this case.

  The lights still flashed but he kept the siren off. Up a small rise, down another, a slight turn to the right and then he hit his brakes. A black SUV was parked on the side of Martin Road. The brake lights were shining, telling Parkman the vehicle was occupied. He turned off his lights and eased up to about twenty feet from the rear of the SUV. He saw it was a Chevy Tahoe with tinted windows.

  He speed-dialed Jill and got her voice mail. He told her where he was and that he would be approaching the Tahoe.

  With his gun on safety, he looked in each mirror to make sure this wasn’t some kind of trap and stepped from his car. The open car door gave him a meager amount of shelter. He held the gun away from him, both hands on the barrel.

  “Hey!” he yelled. “Step out of the vehicle slowly. Open the doors and come out with your hands where I can see them.”

  He detected movement in the front seat of the Tahoe. Through the darkened windows, he could barely discern someone sitting there. The back windows were tinted too much to see through.

  The front door popped open an inch.

  “Don’t shoot. I’m coming out.”

  It was a woman’s voice.

  “Just make sure your hands are where I can see them,” Parkman said. He stole a glance behind him. They were alone out here on Martin Road.

  The driver’s-side door opened and a young pair of female legs in track pants swung out.

  Then Sarah Roberts popped her head out, her hands raised.

  “Take it easy Parkman. It isn’t what it looks like.”

  “Is there anyone else in the vehicle?” he asked.

  “No one,” she said as she hopped out. “I’m alone.”

  Parkman lowered his weapon and stepped out from behind his car door. The security of the weapon in his hand reassured him as he hurried over to the SUV and, bent at the waist, peeked inside. The Tahoe was empty.

  He turned and looked at her as he holstered his weapon.

  “What the hell happened to you? Whose clothes are you wearing and why do you look like you were swimming?”

  Sarah lowered her hands. “It’s a long story. One that I can tell you as soon as we get everyone safe. I suspect the people you’re looking for are down this road.”

  “Tell me what you can,” Parkman said as he walked back to his cruiser. “I have to call this in while you talk. Oh, and: were you the prowler call we got from a house a few miles up the road? You know, the one with a long winding driveway?”

  “Yes. I was looking down each entrance on Martin Road to see which one they were at. I knew it was within five miles or so. But we’re running out of time. You’re it. You and me. I’m going in. I hope you’re coming too.”

  “Sarah, wait one minute. Let me call this in and then tell me why you’re so certain.”

  Sarah nodded and walked back to the Tahoe. He watched her hop into the driver’s seat while he raised Jill on the phone. This time he got her. He gave a quick explanation of where he was and that he had Sarah, with a plea to hurry and then he was off the phone.

  Parkman headed back over to the Tahoe. Sarah jumped out and started talking.

  “I was taken with Esmerelda. I know they have Dolan and my pare
nts–”

  “Correction: they had your parents.”

  “What?”

  “Your parents are safe. Earlier today they were given up in an exchange for Sam Johnson. They have Sam instead.”

  “I don’t know how happy I should feel about that. What a shock! I think my parents are being tortured and then I hear they’re safe but a friend like Sam is now in their midst. How crazy everything can get…”

  “Sarah, what happened to your arm?”

  “I was shot twice. Once in the arm and once in the leg, but the bullets just grazed me. Listen, that’s not important. It may be important tomorrow, but not today. Today, I’m going in there to kill as many of these guys as I can. Are you coming?”