The Alex Cave Series. Books 1, 2, & 3.: Box set

by James M. Corkill

  Everex closed the door and stood next to his companions. “Colonel, I’d like you to meet your new Sergeant Majors, Davis and Chapman.” Everex saw Blackwood’s scowl and grinned in satisfaction. “Just carry on with what you were doing, Colonel. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

  Blackwood stared at the two men. Davis was short with bad acne scars and a crooked nose. Chapman had dirty brown hair, and an ugly scar from his forehead, across his right eye, and down past the corner of his mouth.

  As Davis and Chapman began mopping up the blood, Blackwood followed Everex into the bathroom. Everex tossed the duffel bag onto the toilet seat, knelt down, lifted Conrad’s body off the floor without the least sign of straining, and dumped it into the bathtub. With a speed that surprised Blackwood, a ten-inch knife suddenly appeared in Everex’s hand.

  Everex stared at it for a moment as if studying a fine instrument. He looked over his shoulder at Blackwood with a look evil enough to make the devil cringe. “Now the fun begins,” he said in a tone that sent a shiver up Blackwood’s spine.

  Blackwood stared in stunned disbelief. It was like watching a replay from his time as a POW in Vietnam. Everex began dismembering Conrad’s body, holding each piece over the tub until the blood drained out before tossing it into the duffel bag. The coldness of Everex’s actions sent a shiver of fear through Blackwood, as he realized he’d probably just made the biggest mistake of his life by agreeing to this monstrous animal’s demands.

  The disgust he felt toward Everex and the flood of memories from the POW camp were more than he could stand. Blackwood broke into a cold sweat as the scene from his past began to take over his last shred of self-control and he was back in the POW camp. In his mind, the man who had tortured him looked just like Everex. I have to escape! his inner voice cried out.

  Blackwood bolted from his quarters and across the parade ground, oblivious to the salutes and voices as he passed through his troops and broke into a desperate run down a well-worn path through the woods.

  How far he had run or where he had gone he couldn’t remember, but Blackwood found himself stumbling through the brush behind his cabin. His uniform was ripped to shreds and soaked with sweat. He felt as though he’d just awakened from a nightmare as he staggered up the steps and opened the door of his cabin. He was suddenly frozen with shock when he saw Everex leaning back in his chair, feet propped on his desk, and a folded map in his hands. He stared slack-jawed at the demon from his nightmare.

  Everex smiled, but his smile was scorching. “You look like shit, Colonel. Better take a shower before you explain your plan to me.”

  Blackwood glanced at the closed door to the bathroom, a flood of horrible memories rushing through his mind again. He felt as though he was still fighting with his nightmare as he hesitantly approached the door, expecting to find the mocking remnants of the grisly scene. He grabbed the knob, held his breath, and opened the door. He released a great sigh of relief. The bathroom and tub were spotlessly clean, and smelled strongly of disinfectant. Without a backward glance at Everex, he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

  As he stood under the cold water, he realized he had to take command of the situation and show Everex he was still in charge and a man to be reckoned with. He emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, completely naked. He glanced at Everex, still leaning back in the chair.

  “Get your damn feet off my desk!” Blackwood commanded with renewed assurance as he turned and walked across the room to his dresser. As he grabbed a pair of shorts from the drawer, he watched Everex in the mirror. When Everex didn’t move, he turned and shot him a menacing glare. To his relief, Everex slowly removed his feet. I’m still in command, Blackwood thought with satisfaction as he continued to dress.

  The clean uniform added to his sense of command, and he felt full of confidence again. He strode across the room and leaned over the desk and maps. “Here’s what I want you to do,” he told Everex, and explained the entire operation.

  *

  11:30 P.M. INTERSTATE 90, IDAHO:

  It was a moonless night when the van pulled off the interstate at a truck stop and restaurant on the outskirts of a little town called Silverton. Identical to the rest of the twelve-person team inside the van, Colonel Blackwood was dressed in black pants and a black sweatshirt. He glanced over at Everex, who had the same evil grin as when he had dumped Conrad’s body in the bathtub.

  “Now the fun begins, Colonel,” Everex said sadistically.

  Blackwood felt a chill run up his spine and looked away. The headlights of the van flicked off as they approached the restaurant. Five civilian cars were parked in front of the glass windows, and he could see the sparsely filled tables and the waiter serving coffee to two tired looking men near the door. The van drove past the restaurant into the parking lot behind, where several large tractor-trailer rigs were parked in parallel rows. The street lamps illuminated two fuel tankers, a refrigerated grocery carrier, and four freight carriers without markings.

  According to plan, the van stopped long enough for ten people to jump out, and then it made a U-turn and headed back onto the interstate. Everex and Blackwood ran to the front door of the restaurant and waited while the other eight people ran toward the trucks. Blackwood’s plan was to wait for each trucker to leave the restaurant and grab them as they entered their rig. He and Everex stood guard in case a highway patrol car happened to stop for coffee.

  Suddenly Blackwood heard the diesel engines rev up. “What the hell’s going on?” he snarled at Everex.

  “Change of plans, Colonel. We don’t have time to wait around.” Everex swung a backpack from his shoulders and reached inside.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m putting them to sleep for a while,” he said as he removed two small metal canisters. Before Blackwood could respond, Everex leaned against the door to hold it open, pulled the pins on the canisters, and tossed them into the restaurant.

  The door swung closed as Blackwood and Everex stared through the glass. The two canisters rolled part way down the aisle between the counter and the tables, but appeared not to be doing anything. The server walked down the aisle and accidentally kicked one of the canisters. She bent over to pick it up, and continued falling forward, sending her tray of dishes crashing to the floor. A tall man at the counter stood to help her and collapsed beside her. The other occupants turned and stared uncomprehendingly at the two bodies, and within seconds of each other, slumped into their chairs or fell forward onto the tables and counters.

  Blackwood felt a hand on his shoulder and looked at Everex, who was smiling.

  “Let’s go, Colonel.”

  Blackwood looked back into the restaurant. Were they just sleeping? he wondered. A hand grabbed his arm and spun him around.

  “I said, let’s go!” Everex snarled.

  Blackwood followed as Everex ran toward the trucks. The giant engines roared to life as the small squadron of men climbed into the trucks and drove around the building, heading onto the interstate for the drive back to camp.

  *

  Blackwood bolted upright in bed, his sheets soaked with sweat from his nightmare of his time in the POW compound and the torture from the camp’s commander. In his dream, the camp commander looked just like Everex.

  Someone was knocking on his cabin door, and he squinted at the clock on the nightstand. 10:13 A.M. “Oh, shit!” he moaned. Again, someone knocked. “Just a minute!” he hollered as he rolled out of bed and shuffled to the door. When he opened it, Everex was standing on the other side. Blackwood jumped back, stifling a scream of terror as he cowered against the wall.

  Everex studied the Colonel for a moment. He wasn’t sure what it was, but Blackwood seemed scared to death of him. His once forceful composure and domineering attitude seemed to be disappearing. Well, that’s fine with me, he thought.

  It had just been a bad dream, Blackwood realized, but he wasn’t dreaming now, and knew from the grin on Everex’s face he had better r
egain control. He drew himself up and stepped in front of Everex. “What is it, Major?”

  Everex waved a hand toward the parade ground. “A good night’s work, Colonel.”

  Blackwood stared at the rows of trucks filling the area. “How many did we get?”

  “Six have arrived, so far, and ten are still making their way here.”

  Blackwood smiled. His army would survive. Then another thought occurred to him. “We’re going to need more room.”

  “I’ve already thought of that. Several crews are clearing out sections of the forest. Just enough to drive the trucks through, but still keep them hidden from anyone flying over the area.”

  Blackwood smiled and nodded assent. He had to admit, even though Everex was sick in the head, he was very clever. Maybe it wasn’t such a big mistake promoting him after all. “Very good, Major. Carry on.”

  “When we have enough room in the forest, I’ll set up another raid on the truck stops.”

  Blackwood looked at him curiously. “Do we need more?”

  Everex grinned. “All we can get, Colonel. We’ll concentrate on fuel tankers next time. We’ll need fuel to keep the refrigerated trucks running. We don’t have enough room in our cold storage lockers.”

  Blackwood smiled again, nodded, and closed the door. Yes, he thought as he walked toward the bathroom. Promoting Everex had been a very good idea, indeed.

  Chapter 10

  THE WHITE HOUSE.

  The President inserted a video disk into the player, returned to his chair, and pressed play on the remote. He ate a piece of his club sandwich while he watched the news broadcast from Washington State, recorded earlier that morning. The picture on the television was of a young male news broadcaster sitting behind a desk.

  “The Governor has been forced to call in the National Guard to stop the fighting in the gasoline lines. Once again, until the refineries are distributing gasoline, he is asking you to refrain from driving and use the metro bus system. For those of you with oil heating systems in your homes, please try to stay with friends and relatives until this crises is over.”

  “A man and a woman were shot while robbing a grocery store in Lynnwood yesterday. The owner of the store said he has to keep himself armed at all times because of the constant robbery attempts. This is just one of the many incidents caused by the lack of transportation to bring new food supplies into this part of our state. We go now to our reporter, Jan Smith, who is live with a representative of the Teamsters Union in Tacoma.”

  The picture changed to show a dark-haired oriental woman talking to a gray-haired man, both standing in front of a large truck and trailer rig. “What seems to be the biggest problem with delivering supplies here to the West Coast? We have reports that transportation is continuing in Eastern Washington.”

  “The problem is, once the trucks come over the mountains to bring in supplies, there isn’t any fuel available for them to get back. The trucking industry on this side of the mountains is nearly at a standstill until more fuel is available. If we don’t get any fuel soon, even the trucking in Eastern Washington will stop.”

  “Is it true that trucks are being hijacked from the interstate highways?”

  “Yes it is, and I’ve asked the Governor to have the National Guard patrol the interstates, but he says he doesn’t have enough people. I’m hoping he’ll ask the President for military support.”

  The President stood and switched recordings to one from Los Angeles, returned to his desk, and pressed play.

  On the television was a view from a helicopter flying over the city, showing live pictures of burning buildings and fighting in the streets as the voice of a male broadcaster narrated. “It’s a war zone in Los Angeles as people begin to panic. They are literally fighting their way to the gas pumps. Our latest report is that over three-hundred people have died as a result of domestic shootings over gasoline.”

  The picture changed, showing the broadcaster sitting behind a desk in the studio. “One of our biggest concerns is agricultural production. Without fuel for their equipment, farmers cannot operate, and even the early harvest won’t make it to market if the trucking industry can’t get fuel. If this oil crisis continues, California’s economy will be devastated. People are lining up outside grocery stores to buy anything they can before commodities run out.”

  The President shut off the player, picked up the phone, and waited a moment until Martin Donner answered. “Hi, Martin. Bill here.”

  “Yes, Mr. President. What can I do for you?”

  “Have you heard anything from Mr. Cave?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I see. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs says the Navy has a submarine standing by off the southern coast of Alaska. When you hear from him, tell Mr. Cave to inform his people to start sending the tankers.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The President hung up and stared at his half-eaten sandwich. “Less than a year in office and this has to happen,” he mumbled to himself.

  *

  ALASKA:

  Alex Cave entered the small cement building at the end of the pier and saw Christa leaning over a microscope. “Anything new?” he asked.

  Christa turned to face him, her eyes slightly bloodshot. “No, damn it!”

  Alex raised his hands apologetically. “Sorry.”

  A slight smile formed on Christa’s lips. “Oh, it’s not you, it’s this damn crystal. It doesn’t conform to any mineral standards I know of, and it doesn’t fit any biological standards, either.”

  “How about taking a break. I’ve just received word Mike Broden is coherent. I’m about to fly up to Anchorage.”

  Christa gave him a nod. “Give me a few minutes to change clothes.”

  “Fine. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Alex walked her out to the Suburban, drove through the little town of Valdez, and then another quarter of a mile to Christa’s small apartment complex. The complex had been built during the boom days of the pipeline’s construction, but had since been neglected as far as cosmetic appearances were concerned.

  “It’s not much, but the rent’s cheap,” Christa told him as he parked in front of the building. “You can come up, if you like.”

  Alex nodded and followed her up one flight of stairs and into her unit. Her apartment was a living room/kitchen combination, with one door leading into a bedroom with a bathroom, but it was tastefully decorated.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll be out in a moment,” Christa said over her shoulder as she walked toward the bedroom.

  Alex felt his phone vibrate and answered. “What’s up, Martin?”

  “The Navy has a submarine standing by to escort the tankers. Tell All Alaska to get them moving. Things are getting nasty on the west coast, so the sooner the better.”

  “I’ll tell him. I’m flying to Anchorage in a few minutes to talk to my witness. I’ll call you back in a few hours.”

  “Good. Call me at home if I’m not here.”

  “I will.” Alex hung up and called the All Alaska office to inform Bull about the escort. A few moments later, Christa walked into the living room dressed in light blue slacks and a matching sweater. They left the apartment and drove to the airport, and Alex used the All Alaska airplane to fly them to Anchorage.

  Two hours later, they walked into the hospital and located the director, who escorted them through the hallways toward Broden’s room.

  “I’m not sure he’s really all that coherent,” the director told them. “He insists we’re all going to die when some ship returns. Doesn’t make much sense, does it? Here we are.”

  When they entered the room, Mike Broden was sitting up in bed, staring through the window at the fir trees bordering the land on that side of the building.

  “You have some visitors, Mike,” the director told him. Broden didn’t acknowledge their presence and continued to stare out the window.

  Christa walked to the foot of the bed and studied Broden. When they found him in the stor
eroom, she thought he was much older, but now it was apparent he was actually in his early forties, with thin brown hair above a narrow face. “We need your help, Mike,” she said in a soft voice.

  Broden slowly turned to look at Christa, a sad smile forming on his lips. “It’s too bad someone as pretty as you has to die,” he told her.

  “See what I mean?” said the director.

  Broden shot a menacing look at the man. “I’m not talking to you anymore!” he snarled.

  “Perhaps you’d better leave us alone,” Alex told the director, who nodded agreement and left the room. When Alex faced Broden again, the man was staring at him suspiciously.

  “Are you a doctor, too?” Broden asked.

  Alex smiled. “No, actually I’m a teacher at the University of Montana. My name’s Alex Cave and this is Christa Avery.” Alex extended his hand.

  Broden hesitated, then accepted the handshake and nodded to Christa. “I’m not crazy!” he stated bluntly. “I know what I saw!”

  Christa moved around the foot of the bed until she was standing next to Broden. “Would you mind telling us about it?”

  Broden chuckled. “Why should I? You’ll think I’m a nut case.”

  Christa glanced at Alex and received a nod of approval. “Mr. Broden . . . Mike. When you hear what I’m about to tell you, you’ll think I’m a nut case,” she said and smiled.

  Broden smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything, so Christa continued and told him about the oil tankers. When she finished, Broden looked out the window for a moment. He let out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he said softly. “For a while there I thought maybe I really was crazy.” He looked at Christa, then Alex. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I saw.”

  “Start from the beginning,” Christa told him.

  Broden nodded. “I was in the bathroom,” he said shyly. “I could hear the rest of the guys in the kitchen talking and joking around, and then they started yelling. I thought that maybe they were yelling at Roberts. He’s always playing practical jokes on everyone. But they didn’t stop yelling. I felt the toilet shake and heard Marvin scream to get out of the building. I thought it was an earthquake and hurried as fast as I could. When I got to the kitchen, everyone was gone so I ran down the tunnel to get out of the building. I remember thinking about the light coming in through the windows in the doors, because it was too early for the sun to be up. I saw the guys standing outside, staring at the light, but it scared me. I was going to hide in the storage room, and that’s when the door opened and I saw it. Scared the living’ shit out of me and I ducked behind some boxes!”