by J. T. Baier
“And you’re the Pope?” David Underwood asked with a smile.
“Yes. I left my Pope hat at home, so you’ll have to use your imagination.”
Megan sat down behind her desk as the groups gathered and began working on their arguments. The purpose of the exercise was to show the power the Church had over nations at that point in history. When she’d come up with the activity while forming her lesson plans, it had seemed like a fun and innovative way to make her point. Now, like everything else that morning, it felt a bit pointless. Her mind once again drifted back to the battle that must be going on at the farm and the second one that might be going on at the police station.
She cast an eye over the class. Matt had asked her to play a specific role: make sure her kids didn’t lose another teacher. She reminded herself to stay focused on that. David Underwood was here, far away from the violence of the cartel in spite of his father’s involvement. And so was Blake Mullins, who had made the mistake of getting involved in the drug game before he was even out of high school. If Matt and the others somehow managed to beat the odds and defeat the cartel, maybe Blake could start over and make a life for himself on the right side of the law.
As if on cue, Blake looked up at the clock in the corner of the room. It was nearly nine thirty now. Megan noticed that the young man’s face looked strangely pale. He turned back to his group, joining in their conversation for about thirty seconds or so, then looking back up at the clock.
Megan felt a bit of unease roiling in her stomach. Something about the way the young man kept glancing at the clock and his pale, drawn expression… It was as if he were waiting for something. She tried to push the feeling aside, but then Blake glanced at the clock again. There were a few beads of sweat standing on his forehead now. He turned back to the group.
This wasn’t just paranoia on Megan’s part. Something was very wrong here.
“Blake,” she said.
The young’s man’s head snapped up, and he turned toward her, eyes wide, looking for all the world like a boy who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Would you come up here, please?”
He stood up from his chair, but not before glancing at the clock one more time. When he reached her desk, he crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing.
She spoke in a low voice so that only he could hear. “Is everything all right? You seem a little distracted this morning.”
“Yeah.” His answer was immediate, but there was no conviction behind it.
“You sure? You keep looking at the clock. You waiting for something?”
He shifted his weight to his other foot. “Yeah, I just… I’ve got a test next period in Language Arts. It’s on The Odyssey, and I’m a little nervous about it. Those sentences are like half a page long.”
Megan pressed her lips together in a thin line. In the two years she’d known Blake Mullins, she’d never once seen him stressed about school work. He always seemed to have other things on his mind. “You know, if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me. I’m a pretty good listener. And I don’t judge.”
Blake’s mouth opened a little, as if maybe he wanted to say something, but then it closed, and he seemed to be reformulating his thoughts. He leaned forward and spoke softly. “Listen, Ms. Carter, you should get out of here. Go to the teacher’s lounge for the next twenty minutes or so. Or the bathroom. Or, I don’t know, get in your car and drive. Just don’t be here.”
Megan tilted her head, not sure what to think of the strange words. Blake’s eyes were more earnest than she’d ever seen them. “What do you mean? Why would I do that?”
He stammered in frustration. “I know I’m not the best student, and I’ve lied to you before. But this once, I need you to listen to me. Please get out of here.”
She stared at him blankly, utterly confused. Then, all at once, she understood. Her body tensed and her mouth went dry, not wanting to believe what Blake was implying. Her hand slipped into her purse, pulling out her cellphone. “They’re coming here, aren’t they, Blake? They are coming to hurt us.”
“Not they. Him.”
She glanced down at her phone and quickly tapped out a single word text message. Her mind was racing so fast that it took a moment for what the boy had said to sink in. “What do you mean by him? Who is him?”
A loud, cracking sound erupted in the distance. Megan wasn’t positive, but she thought it was a gunshot.
Blake’s head spun toward the sound, and then his eyes settled on the wall clock. It was exactly nine thirty.
He looked back at Megan. “El Leon. He’s not just coming. He’s here.”
41
Riker clutched the phone to his ear as Luke’s truck bounced over the gravel surface of the country road. Luke was driving way too fast for the conditions and the winding nature of the road, but Riker wished the vehicle would go even faster. Every moment longer it took them to get to the high school meant another moment where El Leon and his fellow enforcers could be hurting Megan or one of the students.
The phone rang three more times before Megan’s voicemail message kicked in. “Hi, it’s Megan. I’m probably shaping young minds at the moment, no big deal, but I’ll get back to you when I can.”
Riker tapped the button to end the call, perhaps a little too aggressively. He couldn’t help his frustration.
Luke glanced over at him, a concerned expression on his face. “You’ve tried her three times, man. If she hasn’t answered by now, she’s not going to.”
Luke was right. Besides, there was another call he should be making, one he should have made immediately after Megan’s text. He cursed his own stupidity as he found the number he was looking for and dialed.
“Still nothing, Riker,” Alvarez said dryly. “Same as when we talked two minutes ago.”
“The cartel guys aren’t coming to the station. They’re at the high school.”
“Shit.” There was a long pause. “We’re going to put the school on lockdown immediately. The station’s only a couple blocks from the school, so I’m going to head over there myself now.”
“We’re right behind you, Officer Alvarez.” He swallowed hard. “I think they’re going after Megan.”
“I’m headed there now. We’re going to stop these guys.” The resolve in her voice almost made Riker believe it was possible.
He hung up the phone and tapped Megan’s number again.
“Hi, it’s Megan. I’m probably shaping young minds at the moment, no big deal, but I’ll get back to you when I can.”
Riker hung up and forced himself to put down the phone. Luke was right. If she hadn’t answered by now, she wasn’t likely to. Could be she was hiding from the cartel guys, or… No. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of the alternative.
He glanced over at Luke and saw his old friend was gripping the steering wheel hard as the truck rumbled over the gravel.
“Luke, I’m sorry about all of this. Donnie’s dead, the high school is under attack, and chances of either of us surviving beyond today are slim. If I hadn’t come back to Kingsport, none of this would have happened.”
Luke’s jaw clenched as he stared at the road in front of him. “You’re a damn fool, Matt Riker. You think we were better off before all of this? I was living under the thumb of a Columbian drug cartel. And Donnie? He was a broken man. I’m not sure you can call what he was doing living at all. You reminded us that it’s possible to fight. And I don’t want to hear you apologize for that. Not ever.”
Riker let Luke’s words sink in for a long moment before answering. He could tell that his old friend meant every word. “Let’s make sure Megan and the students at the high school are safe before we start patting me on the back too hard. If a single kid gets killed, this thing is pretty far from a success.”
“You have a point,” Luke allowed. “Let’s just make sure that doesn’t happen.”
They drove in silence for a while, finally pulling the truck onto a paved road. Lu
ke stepped on the gas hard, pushing the vehicle to its limit. The truck shook as it careened down the state highway.
“I always knew the cartel people were bad. I wasn’t under any illusion that I was working for saints. But what kind of people go after high school kids?”
Riker didn’t answer. He’d seen a few things during his time with the SEALs and QS-4 that reminded him of this brand of evil. His last job with QS-4 came to mind, the one that had convinced him to walk away once and for all. He didn’t allow his mind to go to that place often, but it went there now, if only for a moment. He reminded himself that he’d survived that brutally dark time; he’d survive this too.
Still, this felt different. It was his hometown that was under attack. His family. Something primal roused within him, the innate drive to defend his home from those who would do violence to it.
“We’re going to make them pay,” he told Luke, his voice even. “By the time we’re done, that drug lord is going to shudder anytime anyone mentions the name Kingsport, Iowa.”
A thin smile crossed Luke’s face. “I like the sound of that. And I’m damn glad to be battling at your side instead of against you.”
It took another two minutes before they reached the school. Luke pulled into the main parking lot, cruising toward the front door. For the most part, things appeared normal to Riker, not all that different from when he’d visited the school three days ago. The cars were lined up in the student’s lot, and the facility lot appeared normal. There was no one outside, but that made sense--classes had started an hour ago and everyone would be in class.
“Matt, look.” Luke nodded toward the front door of the school. A man in a security guard uniform lay still on the ground, his head resting in a pool of blood.
A chill ran through Riker. He’d known the cartel men were most likely inside the school, but seeing it with his own eyes made it all too real. The sun reflecting off the front door made it difficult to see through, but he thought he caught a glimpse of motion inside. Did El Leon have a guard at the door?
Riker considered his options. They could go in that way if they needed to, but he’d much rather find a less conspicuous way of entering.
As his eyes scanned the parking lot, he noticed something else out of place. A police car was parked alongside the building near a side door. Riker smiled. Apparently Officer Alvarez had the same idea as he had.
“We need to find a door we can enter without attracting too much attention. We don’t know how many men they brought with them, but they’ll most likely have their strongest defense at the front of the school. That means we go in another way.”
“I know just the place.”
Luke angled the truck around the parking lot, circling to the north end of the school. Riker couldn’t help but smile when he saw where his friend had brought him. The exterior door to the wrestling room.
Luke turned to him and said, “I figure if there’s one place we know in this school, it’s this one.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Luke parked the truck a little way from the door and the two men hopped out. They hurried to the door. Riker’s injured leg was screaming at him now. He’d pushed it way too hard that morning, and it was objecting very strongly to him making it go to work again so soon. He let the pain wash over him, not ignoring it but not letting it control him, just as Coach Kane had taught him to do on the wrestling mat.
As they reached the door, Riker turned to Luke. “Ready?”
Luke nodded.
Riker reached for the door handle, but the door opened just before his hand made contact. A Columbian man stared out at them, just as surprised to see them as they were to see him.
Riker caught the edge of the door with one hand before the man could close it. He raised his other hand, the one holding the Glock, and pointed it at the man’s face. “Don’t move. We have a few questions to ask you.”
42
“El Leon. He’s not just coming. He’s here.”
Blake’s words hung in the air, and Megan found herself unable to respond.
Megan knew very little about the mysterious Columbian man, but she knew enough to be terrified. The stories she’d heard over the past few days had made her blood curdle. And now the subject of those stories was coming here. Coming for her. Worse, maybe coming for her students.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to her feet and strode quickly to the classroom door. It was open a few inches, and she pressed her hand against it, easing it closed. Then she reached down and pressed the lock.
As she turned back to the class, she heard shouting in the distance. A couple of the kids looked up, but most of them quickly returned to their group conversations. Only David kept staring. His eyes drifted to the doorknob and lingered there, noticing the depressed lock button.
“What’s going on, Ms. Carter?” he asked.
A few others glanced up at this, and their expressions grew more serious as they took in their teacher’s ashen complexion.
The crack of another gunshot sounded in the distance, but closer than before. Now every eye was on Megan. The room was silent.
Megan swallowed hard, composing herself. “We’ve all been through the drills. You know what to do. Get under your desks.”
For a moment, no one moved. A few of them wore amused smiles as if they thought she was joking.
There was no time for subtlety. “Get your asses under your desks!”
Ms. Carter wasn’t one to swear, and she never raised her voice. Doing both at the same time provoked an immediate reaction. As one, they all slid to the floor. Even Blake rushed back to his desk and took position under it.
“You too, Ms. Carter,” David called.
“I’m on it.” She started making her way around her desk, but hesitated when she felt something on her neck almost like a physical weight. Turning toward the classroom door, she saw a face staring in through the window at her.
The man was tall and his dark hair hung to his shoulders. He had a broad nose and cold emotionless eyes. He wore a dark expensive-looking suit. He was the picture of calm; his was the face of a man observing a pond of ducks rather than a classroom full of potential victims.
El Leon’s eyes locked with Megan’s, and she froze with sheer terror. If he noticed her fear, he gave no indication. His expression remained placid.
The doorknob turned a fraction of an inch to the left before it was stopped by the lock. Then a fraction of an inch to the right before it stopped again. Click click.
The man shrank in the window as he took a few steps back. He raised something in his right hand, though Megan couldn’t make out what the object was.
A series of rapid-fire blasts echoed through the classroom, and this time the roar of gunfire was unmistakable. The wood around the door frame splintered as bullets tore through it from the hallway. Then El Leon stepped forward and raised a heavy boot, slamming it into the door. The frame buckled and the door swung inward on its hinges.
El Leon paused in the doorway, putting his pistol back into the shoulder holster under his jacket. He sauntered inside and nodded toward Megan. Two other Columbian men, similarly dressed, followed him in, stopping just past the doorway and waiting on either side of the door.
“Apologies for the interruption, Ms. Carter.” El Leon spoke slowly, his heavy accent showing through, but his careful pronunciation of each word was perfect.
Megan took a step back and her thighs banged against the cold metal of her desk. She had no idea how to respond, and she would have been too afraid to even if she had known what to say.
One of the students let out a soft whimper, and Megan turned her head toward them. Seventeen faces, every one of them terrified. This man had entered her classroom and was threatening her students. There was no one to protect them. No one but her.
Riker’s words echoed in her mind: Don’t make your students attend another teacher’s funeral.
She didn’t know if that was possible, if she could protect both h
er students and herself, but she was going to try.
Her cell phone buzzed on the desk, and its screen lit up, showing the name Matt.
El Leon frowned at it, though there was still no real emotion behind the facial expression. “Thought he’d be dead by now.” He shrugged and turned to Megan. “I expect you know that you are coming with us.”
Megan forced herself to look him dead in the eyes. He was close enough that she could smell the heavy scent of his cologne. “I’ll go peacefully as long as you don’t hurt any of the kids. If you hurt anyone else, I’ll fight you all the way.”
“Fight or don’t. It makes no difference to me.” He turned to the class. “David Underwood. Step forward, please.”
None of the students moved.
“Very well. Blake, would you please point out David Underwood to me?”
Again, no one moved.
El Leon let out a short, joyless chuckle. He turned to the two men waiting by the door and shook his head, coworkers commiserating over the daily tribulations of their work life. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, fumbling with it for a moment before bringing up a photograph. From her position, Megan could see it well enough to tell it was a photo of Blake. El Leon studied the photo before turning back to the students. His gaze quickly settled on Blake.
“Ah, there you are. Come, young man. It’s not the time to be shy.”
Blake reluctantly climbed out from under his desk and stood before the large man.
El Leon put a meaty hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Please, point out your classmate David so that we can be on our way.”
Blake said nothing.
El Leon raised an eyebrow. “Come now. You are the reason we are here, young man. You’ve been calling me and passing on information for days. When we spoke on the phone, you indicated this room number and this time as the place where I could find both Megan Carter and David Underwood together. And now that you’ve brought me here, you balk at your duty?” He let out a tisking sound, as if he were scolding a young child.