The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  "I’ll go,” Donald insisted. “I need to stretch my legs or I’ll fall asleep. “Argh, damn shoes," he said, leaning down under the table to tie the loose laces. “Be back in a minute.”

  Jared Simmons leaned back in his chair, arms reaching upward in a full stretch. With the teleconference concluded and no one speaking the room was quiet. So quiet that a particular sound caught the President’s ear.

  "What's that?" he mumbled.

  "Sounds like fizzing?" One of the Servicemen suggested.

  Led by his ear, Jared traced the sound. His investigation led him a few steps to the area where Donald had been sitting. He noticed a bag on the ground to the right of the chair. "Don, is this yours?" he began to say, but the door had already slid closed behind the Chief of Staff.

  The President unzipped the bag, and gasped.

  He stared at the TNT just as the fuse reached the explosive and detonated.

  ***

  "What was that?" Kim said, hearing a loud thump through the walls; even the ground shook for a moment. He looked at his group, all of whom were asleep in various parts of the cafeteria, then to the Secret Service Agent who was posted next to the door.

  “Not sure,” the man in the black suit replied.

  Kim rose from the metal table and listened for it again. "Earthquake?"

  "No I don't-"

  Then came a deafening alarm followed by flashing lights.

  Kim covered his ears and yelled back to the others who had nearly jumped up from a dead sleep. "Stay here! I’ll see what’s going on!”

  The on-duty Secret Service Agent had one hand pressed against the side of his head, receiving information from an earpiece when suddenly, the door swung open.

  "Dustin!" Kim shouted.

  Agent Hause kept the door propped open. "Martino!" he began, first speaking to the other Agent. "Get down there and help out the Marines!"

  “Yes sir!”

  Rising on his toes, Kim caught a glimpse of the unknown action. In the hallway, people were running up and down unsure of what to do or where to go.

  Kim kept both hands over his ears. "What's going on, Dustin?"

  "I don't know exactly," he replied, closing the door down behind him. "Are you guys alright?"

  "Ya we're fine. What do you mean you don't know exactly?

  "There's been an explosion."

  "Explosion? Should we go out there and help?"

  "No! It'll be better for you to stay here,” he said, looking past Kim to the survivors.

  Julianne brought her daughters close, Ally and Charlie stood together next to Alissa and Meghan. In the far corner, out of peripheral, Matty had pulled two sofa chairs together as a makeshift bed.

  “Is everyone here?” Hause continued. “Are all of your friends in here and accounted for?"

  "Ya, everyone's here. Dylan should be out of surgery by now, but he’s still in recovery.”

  "Okay, I'll check on him next."

  "Dustin we should see if they need help!" Kim said, pointing down the hallway. He made a move to open the door, but Agent Hause stepped to the side, impeding the action.

  "Dustin, what are you doing?”

  Kim made another attempt to pass, but again, Hause blocked his path. “Come on, buddy, get out of the way! Let's see if we can help!"

  Dustin Hause had one hand behind his back. He looked at Kim and the words that followed almost sounded sincere. "Sorry, buddy, I didn't mean for this."

  "Didn't mean for what?" Kim asked, completely dumbfounded.

  By the time Dustin Hause whipped the hand from around his back it was too late. He fired two shots point blank into Kim's chest.

  David grabbed his midsection and stared terrified into his friend's eyes. "Dust-" he tried to say, voice weak. "Wh-wh-why?"

  Kim tried to grab hold of Hause’s shirt, but Dustin easily loosened the dying man’s grasp. Then, David Kim slid down and collapsed on the floor, blood pooling around his dying body.

  "Short answer: money," Dustin replied, wiping the blood from his clothing.

  Just then, the deafening alarm stopped beeping.

  “Ah, that’s better,” Hause said, raising his gun at the others; all easy targets, all petrified from fear. “Now let’s make this quick…”

  He fired off five rounds, but before the six trigger was pulled, his gun was knocked to the ground.

  Charlie had come from the side, and using his forearm, he struck a hard, downward blow on Dustin’s shooting hand. He went to follow up with a back fist, but Hause dodged the blow and returned one to Charlie's midsection, then an uppercut to the Canadian’s chin.

  Charlie stumbled backward but did not fall. Using his superior build, he rushed Hause and tackled him into the wall.

  Hause used a two-handed fist to hammer Charlie’s spine, but the Canadian lifted upward, pulled back and slammed Hause’s back onto the floor.

  As the wrestling and jabbing continued, Dustin came up on top and delivered a hard elbow, knocking the fresh bandage off Charlie's injured eye. With Charlie’s mind dazed, Hause began compressing Charlie’s windpipe.

  Charlie’s face went from red to dark blue. He was moments from unconsciousness when two bullets saved his life.

  Despite missing Dustin’s head by inches, the .40 caliber rounds caused him to break away from Charlie.

  Matty was holding on to Agent Hause's gun, hands trembling. He fired twice more, but Hause was already out the door.

  "Charlie, you okay?" Matty asked, arriving at the Canadian’s side.

  The blueish redness and Hause’s handprints began to dissipate from Charlie’s face and throat. "The others?" he tried to say, but the sound was derived from the mouth and not the vocal cords.

  Matty moved to the side, and both viewed the bloody mess.

  Alissa and Meghan had both taken rounds. Meghan had died immediately as Hause’s first bullet embedded itself into her skull. Alissa was rolling on the ground, hand to her throat, trying unsuccessfully to plug up the entrance wound. She flopped toward her wife, where she ultimately bled out.

  Julianne had been hit twice, both rounds entered her back. Emily and Beth had been saved by their mother whose shielding efforts left them unharmed.

  “Go check on them,” Charlie tried to say, but it was his stern finger pointing to the terrified girls that instructed Matty.

  Charlie lifted himself up, and from that angle he spotted a pair of legs through an opening between a table and its metal bench. He was unable see the person’s face, but through deduction he knew the identity.

  He slid over the table and arrived at the dreadful sight.

  “Ally!” Charlie screamed, but his voice was too hoarse and raw to make any sound over a whisper. Mortified, he knelt down next to his best friend’s sister.

  Ally had taken a bullet to the sternum. On her back, she was coughing up bubbles of blood; her blinking eyes pleaded for help; her mind unsure what was happening as shock had taken over.

  “Oh no, God, no, please, no!”

  Charlie pressed against the quarter-sized hole, while the other wiped bloody strands of hair from her face. He put a hand on Ally’s cheek and stared into her scared eyes. But it was too late for treatment.

  Pale-faced, Ally gasped four times for air, and halfway into the fifth, her eyes went out of focus and her heart stopped beating.

  Charlie looked up to the ceiling and screamed what sounded more like a low, fractionated moan.

  “Beth and Emily are okay, but everyone else is dead! What the fuck just happened?” Matty said, but gasped into both hands. “Oh no, Charlie, I’m so sorry.”

  Charlie’s jaw muscles clenched and a fury took over his good eye. "Your gun. Stay with them.”

  ***

  Pandemonium broke out.

  A cloud of black smoke filled the air dropping visibility to a matter of feet. Government personnel and VIP’s alike took to the halls in a panicked frenzy of uncertainty.

  On the hunt for Hause, Charlie shoved forcefully throu
gh the crowd. Up ahead, he recognized Staff Sergeant Fikejs and the Marines Ringo and Ryan.

  The three soldiers were in the middle of an intersection, attempting to control the crowd but to no avail.

  “Please, everyone keep calm!”

  “This way!”

  “Head to the surface using the Front Door! It’s the largest exit!”

  Fikejs pinched the transmit button on his radio to communicate with the Marines above ground. “Attention all positions, converge at The Front Door to assist in evacuation. This is not a drill.”

  "Staff Sergeant, what happened?" asked Charlie. While continuing to scan for Agent Hause, his eye fell upon Donald Quick who was sitting on the ground, dazed and unresponsive.

  A towel was wrapped around the chief of staff’s head. Lines of blood stained his cheek and neck, but the injury appeared non-life threatening.

  "There's been an explosion in the command room!” Fikejs began to say but paused to shout emergency procedures to passersby. “The Vice President was in there, but we can’t get inside. Stone collapsed sealing us off...”

  During the answer, Fikejs noticed the gun in Charlie's hand.

  "Whoa, why do you have a weapon?” he shouted, quickly unholstering the Springfield 1911 on his leg holster. “Drop the gun! Do it now!"

  "No, you don’t understand! I know who did it!" Charlie tried to say, but the ambiance was too loud and his voice too weak. So, he dropped the weapon and pointed down the hallway toward the cafeteria. "Help!" he repeated multiple times.

  “What? Speak up!”

  “Staff Sergeant, I think he’s saying help!”

  Charlie clapped and held up both thumbs at Ryan. Then, without waiting, he tore off down the hallway.

  "Damnit, hold on!” Fikejs called out, picking up Charlie’s handgun. “Ringo, stay here. Ryan, you’re with me!”

  ***

  “What on God’s green earth happened?” Staff Sergeant Fikejs said, surveying the massacre inside the cafeteria.

  Fortunately for Charlie, Matty ran over and explained what the speech-impaired Canadian was having difficulty doing. "Agent Hause came in here and started shooting us! Charlie and him fought, and I got to his gun and shot at him but missed. Then he took off!"

  "The explosion…this…no coincidence," Charlie yelled, voice barely audible.

  Fikejs nodded in understanding. "Come with us! Hause will be trying to get topside!"

  “Shouldn’t we get help?” suggested Matty.

  “We are the help, bro. Come on,” Ryan replied.

  In the hallway, Fikejs was already on his radio screaming orders. "Marines, get back to your positions on the double! Close down every exit! Anyone who gets eyes on Agent Hause, consider him extremely hostile. He is presumed armed, but I want him alive!"

  Fikejs, Ryan, and Charlie made a right and hustled down a vacant corridor, hurrying past one of the red painted emergency exits. The door was slightly cracked open, and the orange light on top was spinning.

  Fortunately, Matty spared a second glance. "Guys! Guys! The door! Here!”

  Charlie turned first, then grabbed Ryan by the shoulder and pointed back to Matty.

  Ryan whistled loud with his fingers, causing Fikejs to stop and turn.

  "This shouldn't be open. The emergency order was limited to the Front Door exit, right?”

  “That’s correct. Alright, you’re on the door.”

  “Got you, Staff Sergeant,” Ryan said positioning himself next to the handle.

  M16 at the ready, Ryan pushed open the door and Fikejs peeked his head inside before bringing it out just as fast. "Clear, but Hause has a head start. You, what's your name?"

  "Me? Matty, why?"

  "Ryan, you and Matty take the Front Door elevator and get to the surface most ricky tick. Don’t bother searching the cabin, let’s drop a wide net and work our way back. Get Matty a weapon and stay on com."

  “Oo rah, Staff Sergeant. Come on, bro, let’s move.”

  Matty didn't have a chance to decline as he was pulled away.

  "And you-"

  “Charlie.”

  "You're with me, Charlie.” Fikejs returned the handgun and asked, “How much you got left?"

  Charlie popped out the magazine, and through the marker, identified six remaining rounds.

  "That’ll do. You and I are going this way,” Fikejs said before pinching his radio. “Marines, we are coming topside. Front Door, Back Door, Airport, Mountainside, stay frosty. Pantry, we are heading your way now. If you see Agent Hause, remember, I want him alive!"

  Charlie at his heels, Fikejs moved quickly despite the extra fifty pounds of gear. The Marine navigated through the tight emergency path of grated flooring and narrow stone walls, and after five minutes, arrived at the door leading to the escape-hatch-exit-point dubbed “The Pantry.”

  "It isn't opened.”

  "Doesn't mean Hause didn't close it behind him," Charlie struggled to reply.

  "Fikejs to Pantry, Fikejs to Pantry, over.”

  “This is Case, sir.”

  “Update.”

  “Quiet. No activity,” replied the Marine.

  “And you’ve been here the whole time?”

  “Negative. After the report of an explosion, we fell back to the Front Door. Ten minute window of absence.”

  Fingers off the radio, Fikejs thought out loud. “So Agent Hause could have made it up and through undetected.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Ya, maybe.”

  Fikejs resumed radio transmission. “Roger that, Case. Be advised, coming out now.” He half-turned to Charlie and said, “I open, you break off right, I'll go left."

  There was no count as Fikejs suddenly whispered, "Now,” and then both men flew out and peeled off in their respective directions. Their guns swept the rocky foothills and forest landscape, but there were no signs of Agent Hause.

  Camouflaged, two Marines popped out from behind a section of shrubs. One was carrying a forest green M10 rifle with high magnification optics, while the other held on to a red dot sighted M16.

  “So you haven’t seen anyone?” Fikejs asked, joining the two Marines.

  "Negative,” the Marine with the sniper rifle replied first. The patch on his chest read “Mack.”

  “Nothing got passed us, sir. Well, since we got back.”

  "He's not here," Charlie mouthed. He looked down at the ground beneath him. There were no tracks or signs of any kind. "He played us. He must have counted on you to have your men converge at the cabin, then he opened the emergency door as a decoy, and took another route to escape. Where are we?"

  “Almost right on top of the facility,” answered Mack.

  “The cabin where we brought you guys in is about a klick northeast," followed Case.

  Fikejs appeared visibly frustrated by the ruse. "All positions, radio check.”

  “Front Door, no visuals yet.”

  “Mountainside, no activity.”

  “Back Door, clear.”

  Mack and Case, the Pantry team, were present, but as Staff Sergeant Fikejs waited, there was one team missing. “Airport, come in...Airport, come in...Preston, Dralston, report!”

  Silence.

  “The Airport team, are they guarding an actual airport?” asked Charlie.

  Mack took the question. "Ya, ‘bout a ten-thousand foot runway three klicks north of the bunker. Why?”

  “That’s his evac!”

  Then came an echo of gunfire, and with the combined evidence, Fikejs was inclined to agree. "Everyone move to the Airport! Preston, Dralston, we’re coming your way!"

  "This way, Staff Sergeant,” Case suggested, taking the lead. “It will be faster than going back down and through the Hole."

  After ten minutes traversing stone and forest, Case, Fikejs, Charlie, and Mack arrived at the covert hatch designated “The Airport.”

  Matty and Ryan had had been waiting alongside the other Marines.

  “Preston, Dralston?” Fikejs asked, but based on the disgusted an
d furious faces of his men, he knew the answer.

  “Over there, Staff Sergeant.”

  The blond-haired Marine with the nametag reading “Dralston” had his throat slit, while Preston died from a gunshot wound to the head.

  "Hatch’s been opened, sir,” declared the redheaded Marine, Flenderson. He pointed back to a metal grate that was propped up next to a tree. “Musta come up through here and got the drop on Pres and Dral.”

  “Dralston’s M16 and radio are missing,” noted Ryan.

  Flenderson’s Scottish born cousin, Mason, whistled. "I got tracks leading this way, Staff Sergeant! He’s making a break for it!”

  “What are we waiting for?”

  Not far into the foot trail, Matty heard something. "Is that a propeller?"

  The others stopped and listened to the idling engine.

  "That's gotta be Agent Hause!"

  “Hurry! We’re almost there.”

  The men sprinted the remaining distance, encouraged by revenge and the close proximity to it, and not long after they arrived at the airport.

  They broke through the forest brush, guns drawn.

  “Shoot the tires!”

  “Shoot anything! Just stop him!”

  “Wait, where is he?”

  Their ears traced the “waaah” sounds of a departing prop plane and their eyes confirmed the aircraft a few hundred feet into its ascent.

  “You gotta be kidding me!”

  “He’s getting away!”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  Near a chalked out section, steps from to their position, Staff Sergeant Fikejs discovered Dralston’s radio.

  “There’s nothing we can do. We’re too late.”

  0834 hours

  "Well, the communications equipment is basically destroyed,” Matty said, walking out, hands full of fried cables and wires. “Agent Hause knew was he was doing. Looks just as bad as the equipment at Blue Springs."

  “Mother fucker’s dead when we find him. Ain’t that right, Serg?” asked Ringo, as he placed sheets over the bodies of two murdered communications staff.

  “Not too quick. Not without feeling a helluvalotta pain.”