“Looks clear,” the doctor said.
Fenix held up a hand. “Hold on, Doc.”
He focused on the car. It wasn’t as good as a cabin, but it was shelter from the wind and cold. Maybe they could hunker down for a few hours until dawn. Fenix moved to scope the rear of the vehicle. He cursed when he saw the shattered windows. It wasn’t going to keep them warm or protected.
After another scan for contacts, Fenix waved Rollins onward. They carefully made their way down the side of the hill and moved onto the shoulder of the road.
Rollins took to the right side and Fenix moved to the left. They walked for another half hour, maybe longer. A snowflake fluttered onto his face, stinging his cheek. Looking up through his stolen NVGs, he saw a sky full of flakes, like green confetti coming down at a New Year’s party. A long green streak of light flared across the horizon. At first he thought it was a shooting star, but then he heard the unmistakable bark of an M240 gun. Tracer rounds ripped through the darkness.
“Down, down!” Fenix yelled. He bolted across the road and hid with Rollins near the base of a tree at the edge of the woods.
“Who’s shooting at us now?” Rollins asked.
Peeking around the tree, Fenix spotted the outline of a helicopter hovering over the forest to the west. The tracer rounds were centered on a hilltop position, which at least meant the bastards weren’t firing on his sentry post. According to his map, the post was tucked in a ravine.
Was this the helicopter gunship that had attacked his camp earlier come back after refueling, or was this a new one?
He moved cautiously out onto the street, brought up the rifle to his NVGs, and zoomed in on the helicopter. It was a mile away, maybe more.
“Come on, Doc,” Fenix said.
Rollins reluctantly moved back into the road. They kept to the shoulder as they walked toward the battle, which lay between them and the sentry post. Ahead, the asphalt snaked around a corner that was blocked by more trees. Hills and snowy peaks protruded above the pines.
The snow picked up as the two men walked with their rifles aimed at the chopper. Flakes fluttered in front of his sights, and Fenix reached up to brush off the scope and his NVGs every few steps.
Over the din of automatic gunfire, he heard the faint rattle of an engine. He halted and then took a knee when he realized it was moving in their direction. The tracer rounds changed trajectory. One of them streaked down the road and hit a tree behind them.
“Shit!” Fenix yelled. He dove for cover just as a trio of pickup trucks rounded the corner ahead.
Fenix crawled behind a tree and was preparing his rifle when he saw men in black fatigues were firing from the beds of the pickup trucks at the chopper.
“Fuck yes! We got reinforcements, Doc!” he said.
“You sure those are our guys?”
Fenix wasn’t sure. In fact, it didn’t make much sense that they would run into the Sons of Liberty out here in the ass end of nowhere. But who else could they be? It had to be his men coming to rescue him, right?
“Give them some covering fire!” Fenix shouted. He pushed himself up and, using the tree for cover, roved his barrel at the helo. The suppressed crack of his rifle joined the chorus of war.
He held the trigger down with glee—sending rounds downrange was one hell of a feeling when you had your enemy in your sights, especially when the enemy wasn’t firing back at you.
Smooth as shit, baby, Fenix mused.
He fired burst after burst, more rounds cutting through the darkness. The bird pulled up, but the door gunner continued firing, relentless. Flames burst from the pickup in the back of the column, the gas tank igniting and sending the men in the bed cartwheeling away in a brilliant flash.
Another bullet whizzed toward Fenix, pushing him back. He changed his magazine and waited for another opportunity to fire.
“Shoot your damn weapon!” Fenix yelled at Rollins.
The chopper continued its pursuit of the trucks, which were closing in on Fenix’s position. Fenix palmed the fresh mag into the cold rifle and angled the carbine up toward the cockpit.
“Die, you fucking traitors,” he growled.
The helicopter was heading right for him now, closing in on the trucks.
An explosion suddenly bloomed overhead, the bird blowing to pieces mid-air. Burning hunks of metal streaked through the sky, and a flaming corpse dropped to the ground like a flake of snow.
Fenix lowered his rifle and shielded his eyes with a gloved hand. The blast had been close enough that he could feel the heat on his face, and it felt damn good. He grinned and strode out into the road to link up with the Sons of Liberty soldiers that were apparently on their way to rescue his sorry ass.
“Doc,” Fenix said. “Doc, come on.”
He turned to see Rollins sitting in the snow near the tree, cross-legged, his hands on his stomach.
“Doc?” Fenix said. He hurried over and crouched down in front of Rollins, who looked up with sad eyes. His NVGs were pushed up on his forehead, and he seemed to be looking through Fenix instead of at him.
“I’m cold, General,” Rollins choked, reaching up with one hand. “You got a cigarette?”
Fenix knew by the question that Rollins was a dead man. The doc might have been a drunk, but he wasn’t forgetful. He put a hand on the doctor’s shoulder and moved him back slightly to see the blood splatter on his stomach.
“I’ll get you one,” Fenix said. He stood and turned toward the approaching trucks. “Just hang on. I’m sure one of these boys can spare a smoke.”
The rusty trucks and ancient Jeep eased to a stop, their engines coughing and whining. The front door of the lead vehicle opened, and a man with short-cropped gray hair stepped out. A hatchet and sheathed knife hung from a duty belt around his waist.
Fenix didn’t recognize him, but new soldiers were joining the ranks of SOL every day.
“Hello, boys,” he said. “You’ve got good timing.”
The man looked over his shoulder at the others but didn’t say anything. Several guns were still angled at Fenix.
“Lower your fucking weapons. It’s me, General Fenix, and I really need a cigarette.”
The man in camouflage laughed. “You’re Dan Fenix?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Fenix snarled. He took a few steps forward to look at the face of the man that had disrespected him so blatantly. The move earned Fenix another four guns pointed in his direction.
The man wagged a gloved finger. “Now, now, General. If you’d be kind enough to stay put, I promise we won’t shoot you dead.”
Fenix narrowed his eyes. The guy had some sort of an accent he couldn’t place.
“You don’t look like much, if I’m being honest,” the guy said. He shrugged and pointed a pistol at Fenix. “We’ve been looking for you for a while, but this is just too damn easy. It’s almost like it was meant to be.”
He reached down and pulled the hatchet from his belt. “I’m not sure how we’re going to spend the ten million in gold bars, but I’ve got a few ideas…”
Fenix had just long enough to realize he was well and truly fucked before someone clocked him on the back of the head.
***
Colton punched the prisoner in the stomach for a third time. The man fell to his knees, hands cuffed behind his back, bald head dipped toward the concrete floor. He spat out a mouthful of blood and then looked up with a grin.
“You’re a bigger pussy than that injun,” he said.
Outside the jail cell, Raven unfolded his arms and strode forward, but Lindsey held out a hand to hold him back.
“Let me have a shot at this, Chief,” Raven said.
Colton shook his head. The last thing he was going to do was let Raven in here with this piece of shit.
“I got this,” Colton said. Without warning, he threw another punch at the man’s jaw. The crack echoed through the small cell.
“I’m only going to ask you one more time who you’re working for, asshole,
” Colton said. “And you’re also going to tell me where your buddies are camped out.”
The man cracked his jaw from side to side, chuckled, and then spat at Colton’s feet. Whoever he was, he was a professional, and he wasn’t saying much so far. But they had plenty of time to interrogate him.
It was still dark in Estes Park, and Colton had just gotten their prisoner back to the station. The bullet Raven had fired had gone clean through, and the guy had patched himself up pretty well before they found him. Of course, he’d sustained a few more injuries since then.
Officer Hines was at the Estes Park Medical Center, where the doctors were removing the arrow Raven had accidentally fired into his shoulder. Tim Beedie, the volunteer that had accompanied Hines on the hunt, was dead, having bled out from a gunshot wound in Beaver Meadows.
One hell of a night, Colton thought as the man in front of him continued moving his jaw back and forth. He finally looked up and held Colton’s gaze, narrowing a pair of blue eyes surrounded by bulging purple bruises. Raven had done a number on the bastard before Colton could cuff him. Creek had also done some major damage to his neck and right arm. Bite marks and lacerations still oozed blood.
“You want me to set the dog back on you?” Colton asked. “Talk!”
“Screw you,” the man growled. “I’m not telling you jack shit without a lawyer.”
Colton almost laughed at that. Lindsey couldn’t resist, chuckling so hard she ended up bent over with her hands on her knees.
“We’re under martial law in Estes Park,” Colton said calmly. “The only person that you’re going to talk to is me.”
He leaned down, tired bones aching as he crouched. “You killed seven residents of my town, and if you count Officer Sam Hines, you injured another seven. And for what?” Colton asked. He thought about hitting the man again, but he held back. Never in his career had he beaten information out of anyone before, but these were different times. The old rules of engagement didn’t apply. That didn’t mean he enjoyed it.
“You’re not leaving me with many choices here,” Colton continued. “You’re either going to start talking or I’m going to start hurting you real bad.”
Raven and Lindsey kept watch, their faces masks of worry, but Colton didn’t let that distract him. He was determined to get this guy to talk with whatever means possible.
“Jason,” the guy finally said. “My name is Jason. And what you don’t understand is that nothing you can do to me will be worse than what my boss will do to me if I gave him up to a fucking pig.”
Jason sucked in another long breath and then sighed, apparently done talking for now. His silver goatee was dripping blood from his broken nose, and his swollen eyes seemed to be getting worse.
Colton stood and let out his own sigh. He motioned for Lindsey to open the barred gate to let him out. Jason pushed at the floor with his cuffed hands and then sat on the single bench in the small cell while Colton left.
“Guess you won’t mind me leaving you with Raven,” Colton said. “I mean, he is a pussy and all, right?”
Jason’s eyes flitted to Raven, who cracked his knuckles.
“He ain’t a cop, either, so maybe you’ll be able to have a more cordial conversation,” Colton added.
“Doubt that, Chief,” Raven replied.
Colton shrugged a second time and jerked his chin at Lindsey. “Come on, Detective, let’s let Raven have a chat with our new friend.”
“All of you are dead when they come!” Jason yelled. He staggered over to the bars, the veins in his neck bulging as he looked at them.
Colton turned halfway. “When who comes?”
Eyes wide like a wild animal, Jason retreated back to the bench. “There’s a storm coming your way,” he said. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
***
The situation room at Constellation was packed with military and civilian staffers with high-level security clearances. Doctor Peter Lundy, the leading scientist at the facility, sat at the far end of the conference table, stroking his red goatee and reading over reports. Colonel Raymond and General Thor were at the head of the table with several of their staffers standing behind them. Even President Diego had stayed up into the early morning hours to monitor this situation.
Covering his mouth to hide a yawn, Diego said, “We got a SITREP yet?”
“Sierra Team found Fenix’s hideout about a mile from Apache Peak,” Thor announced. “The Rangers took two of the SOLs captive, but Fenix escaped. We’re still combing the area for him.”
Charlize couldn’t believe Fenix had gotten away a second time. It was taking every inch of self-control not to shout orders to find him at all costs.
Stay calm, stay in charge, she kept repeating to herself. She already felt guilty about pulling strings to rescue Ty and now Albert’s sister. Good men had died to bring Ty home, and Charlize would have to bear the burden of her decision to send Lieutenant Dupree’s fire team to Colorado. Sending more Americans into danger just to get revenge on the man who murdered her brother would be beyond selfish. Except that Fenix wasn’t just a murderer—he was a terrorist.
The atmosphere now reminded Charlize of the moments before the nuclear explosion that had leveled Washington, D.C. and destroyed the PEOC beneath the White House. The room was tense, the air fraught with shouts and updates as they monitored the raid. But this time the enemy wasn’t North Korea—it was domestic terrorists that called themselves the Sons of Liberty.
All across the country, groups like SOL were popping up and threatening the survival centers. Gangs, vigilantes, and other groups hell-bent on taking generators, food, water, and supplies were making it very difficult to keep any sort of order at the centers. They needed to cut the head off this particular snake to stamp out the Aryan Nation groups rising in Colorado and neighboring states.
Colonel Raymond walked over to a wall-mounted monitor. They didn’t have a real-time feed of what was happening in Colorado, but they did have a map that showed the area. Charlize had practically memorized every mountain, road, and trail in the state of Colorado over the past month. They’d had plenty of false leads and tips that led nowhere. But this time the lead was real. Fenix and his men were out there, hiding like rats.
“This is where the SOL camp was located,” Raymond said, pointing. “Sierra Team is searching this area for Fenix and any other men that may have escaped.”
Thor leaned over for a report from a staff member while Raymond continued briefing the president. Charlize took another drink of coffee. Not that she needed the caffeine. It was two a.m. and she was wide-awake. She just hoped Ty was sleeping peacefully. Maybe when he woke up in the morning, she’d be able to tell him that Fenix was dead and could never hurt him again.
Diego took a seat next to Charlize after Raymond finished his short briefing. The president offered her a tired smile.
“At least there’s some good news,” he said. “We’ve got more shipments of generators, oil, and other supplies coming in on the west and east coasts from our allies. The British and French have also sent us soldiers to help move these resources across to our SCs.”
“That’s great,” Charlize said. She wanted to ask if it was too little too late, but every shipment meant more saved lives.
“More troops are coming home, too,” Diego added. “More men and women to protect our assets and deliver them to the people that need them.”
Charlize considered asking if there were enough troops to send to Houston to help with the cholera outbreak, but she knew there weren’t. It wasn’t just a matter of able-bodied soldiers, it was a matter of logistics and moving supplies.
“Shipments from Australia and New Zealand will be arriving in a few days as well,” Diego said.
She took a deep breath, but before she could add her opinion, General Thor stood and said, “Mr. President, we just got word from Buckley AFB that Sierra team has gone dark.”
“What do you mean gone dark?” Diego asked.
�
��The pilots aren’t responding over the comms,” Thor said. “Buckley will continue trying to get through, but for now, we have no way to contact the pilots.”
Charlize let out a huff of frustration. “Someone find out what the hell is going on,” she snapped.
“We’re doing our best, ma’am,” Thor said. He sat calmly, eyes ahead.
Charlize was sick of sitting around calmly. The old military saying “Hurry up and wait” rang even more true now that communication happened at a snail’s pace. The other staffers and officers went back to their duties while Charlize sat at the table, trying to keep her cool. Maybe she needed a break. She had been meaning to go check on Ty for over an hour now.
“We’re going to catch him,” Diego said quietly to her. “Fenix will not get away again. It’s just a matter of time before he’s in our custody.”
Charlize thanked the president with a nod, but didn’t reply. She stood and walked over to the wall-mounted monitor to look over the area herself. At least that would keep her busy. There wasn’t much near Apache Peak, which made it one hell of a hiding place. The remote area gave them a ton of ground to cover, even for a helicopter, and especially at night.
“This is where we lost contact with the team,” Raymond said. He pinched the touch screen together and zoomed in on a road. “The pilots said they were engaging a convoy of vehicles before going dark.”
Charlize knew what the news meant. Sierra Team was gone, another victim to the Sons of Liberty.
“Goddammit,” Diego said. He balled his bandaged hand into a fist and stopped just short of pounding the table. “How long until we can get another bird out there?”
Thor shook his head. “An hour, sir. Maybe more. By the time we send another team, the enemy will be long gone.”
There was a long silence that seemed to linger. They were all aware that sending another bird wouldn’t find Fenix; all it would do was recover the bodies of the previous team. How many more men would die at the hands of these terrorists?
Diego shook his head, his bewildered expression like a poker player that had just lost a hand he’d been certain of winning.
Trackers Omnibus [Books 1-4] Page 65