Wagner nodded, “That couldn’t hurt and I can vouch for every man in my unit.”
Moore looked up, “Trust me, I have little fear that any of your gun-happy bimbos would tip off Joshua.”
Letting out a gasp, Wagner’s face started turning red as Griffey held up his hand. “I’m the only one who gets to yell today, so drop it,” he said and Wagner snapped his mouth closed and nodded.
Glancing over at Moore, Griffey just lifted his chin. “That sounds fine by me but if you think we have people giving out information, I want to know.”
“No, I don’t, but I don’t want to take the risk. We only have one chance at this,” Moore said and Griffey nodded with a smile, hearing some confidence in Moore’s voice that it might work.
They all turned to Winters as her laptop started beeping loudly and then stopped. Leaning back to look at her screen, Moore smiled. “That email better be work-related,” he chuckled. “My computer only beeps, not ring klaxons.”
Opening the email, ignoring Moore, Winters read it with her eyes getting big. She pushed away from the computer, jumping up. “Holy shit!” she cried out in shock. The others looked at her as Moore leaned over, reading her email. Winters spun away, forcing herself to calm down and not show any joy.
“Oh fuck,” Moore said.
“What?” Griffey shouted, jumping up and moving around the table where he stopped, staring at Winters computer screen. His jaw dropped open, reading the email.
‘Winters, look at the news. Three senior IRS agents, one BATFE agent, and an EPA agent were shot by snipers in Atlanta. They were all killed in the span of fifteen minutes while walking out of their homes. Ask Moore if there is any way you two can come down here.
~Tim’
Gasping for air, Griffey backed away from the screen. He looked at Moore, “Don’t even ask to leave here.”
“Griffey, I was assigned here by the director himself with the Attorney General,” Moore said, then looked over as Winters turned around in shock. “Is that from Timothy Green?”
“Yes, he’s stationed in Atlanta, looking for that serial killer that the press nicknamed ‘Backdoor Killer,” she said distracted. “Don’t worry, I’m not requesting to leave. Tim worked with us long enough, he should be able to handle this.”
“If he stops going after the serial killer,” Moore said nodding.
“How about we call him tonight and talk to him?” Winters said, sitting back down. “You know how Tim likes to have a pat on the back.”
Moore nodded as the doors opened and Schmidt walked back in with another man who ran to Wagner. As Schmidt handed over a stack of photos, the other man leaned over, whispering in Wagner’s ear.
Wagner jumped up, “Sir!” he shouted, looking at Griffey with a huge grin.
“I want all phones on the table now,” Griffey snapped and everyone tossed their cellphones down. He turned to Wagner and Moore realized that Griffey was paranoid. “Please tell me you have good news.”
“They saw him enter twenty minutes ago and he hasn’t left,” Wagner beamed.
“Twenty minutes ago?!” Griffey screamed with his face turning purple, glaring at the man who had whispered in Wagner’s ear.
“Sir, the guards outside wouldn’t let him in. Your orders were only senior staff could interrupt a meeting,” Wagner said, not caring if Griffey got angry at one of his agents but Griffey had power, and Wagner didn’t want it directed at him.
Taking a deep breath, Griffey stumbled back. “He should’ve pulled his pistol and shot the fucking guard.”
“Um,” Schmidt said, looking around. “Who have we spotted?”
“Where are your weapons Schmidt?” Griffey asked, moving to the table and grabbing all the phones and shoved them in his briefcase.
“Outside the door in the weapons locker,” Schmidt said, pointing at the door.
Looking at Wagner, Griffey gave an evil grin. “How are we getting there?”
“My team is loaded up in trucks outside, waiting for us,” Wagner said grinning.
“Schmidt, grab your shit and come on,” Griffey said heading for the door. “Come on, Moore, let’s end this.”
As Moore walked past, Winters walked beside him, following Griffey who was almost skipping down the hall. “You think Schmidt is with the Minutemen?” she barely breathed out.
“He fits the profile, but I doubt it,” Moore mumbled back.
She looked up at him, speaking quietly. “The same could be said about you or me.”
Moore cracked a grin. “Sorry, but you are too hot tempered,” he chuckled. “How many times have I gone to the review board for you because of that temper? You’re lucky the sheriff wasn’t a hard ass last night. If it wasn’t for your temper, you would have your own team, instead of being stuck under me.”
“People need to quit pissing me off,” Winters said with a scowl, but smiled on the inside.
“That’s my point,” Moore said as they headed outside.
“Moore, even if he was, there is no way anyone could get information to Joshua.”
Keeping a fast pace, Moore looked around, then over at her. “I know,” he said. “What worries me is the sheriff pulling his influence from the population. I know those are Minutemen at Joshua’s house, the sheriff told me and there are others around here. Now, someone inside could get information out to them. What worries me, is that Buck told me he was allowed to tell me and only me who they were. Don’t you see, Winters? They know I haven’t told anyone else and are sending me a message, ‘leave us alone’.”
Winters fought not to seem impressed and remembered Moore was one of the best profilers ever to work in the FBI. “I think you worry about too much stuff,” she huffed.
They saw Griffey standing beside a Suburban, waiting on them. “I don’t like it when Griffey smiles like that,” Winters said as Schmidt trotted up behind them, carrying his M4 and wearing his tactical vest.
“I trust someone will fill me in,” he said as Griffey motioned to the open door in the back as he climbed in the front passenger seat.
“We will,” Moore said climbing into the backseat.
“I fucking hate the middle,” Winters said, climbing in after him.
Schmidt climbed in, shutting the door. “I would sit in the middle, but seeing as I’m the most heavily armed, I think I need a window seat.”
The driver passed Griffey a laptop and then started the engine. Three MRAPs drove past and the driver followed them out of the gate heading north. “It’s really him,” Griffey said, almost giggling, staring at the screen.
“Griffey, you mind if I see?” Moore asked.
Griffey passed the laptop back and looked at the driver. “He hasn’t left?” Griffey asked with trepidation.
“No sir,” the driver said. “When Agent Moore is done, you can watch the feeds live. We have them monitored at the compound, but each vehicle has a live feed. Agent Wagner instructed me to show you the captured video of the target.”
Moore took the computer and saw a play bar at the bottom. He tapped the beginning and stared at the screen, seeing the front of Joshua’s cabin. Movement on the far left caught his eye and Moore felt his heart speed up as the figure crept across the yard.
Tapping pause, Moore tapped the screen, zooming in to see that the figure had a shemagh wrapped around his face and wearing a helmet. But seeing the eyes, Moore knew it was Joshua. He tried to zoom in more, but the image just blurred. “You only have one monitor?” he asked.
“No sir, we have three. One on the back and the other on the slope on the north side, looking down at the clearing. That’s the different angle you saw,” the driver said.
“Oh,” Moore said and tapped the play button. Joshua continued to the cabin looking around and jumped up on the side of the porch, easing up to the door. He reached out, touching the door knob, then walked past the door and jumped off the other end of the porch.
When he left the camera’s view, the screen blinked showing the angle from th
e slope as Joshua headed over to a small building that everyone assumed was a type of barn next to a corral. Walking into the building, Moore lost sight of Joshua for a few minutes, but then Joshua walked back out more casually, heading back to the cabin.
The screen blinked showing the front angle as Joshua jumped up on the porch and pulled out a key, unlocking the door. Giving a last look around, Joshua walked in, shutting the door and the video stopped.
“He moves very gracefully,” Winters said as Moore handed the laptop back to Griffey.
“He moves like a hunter,” Schmidt said. “Was my clearance not high enough for this?”
“Schmidt, with the laws we broke doing that, we didn’t want many to know,” Moore said as the driver showed Griffey how to watch the live feed.
“Like we haven’t broken enough?” Schmidt chuckled. “You do realize if we bring Joshua in alive, we will have mass riots across the nation.”
Moore gave a sigh of relief and Winters felt disgusted with her mentor. “I know, and that’s why Wagner is leading this little adventure,” Moore said. “We can’t let one man bring down our system.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling off Highway 57 and onto a small dirt road. They only drove half a mile and then stopped. “We walk from here,” the driver said, getting out.
They climbed out and saw men in tactical gear pouring out of the MRAPs. “How many men did Wagner bring?” Winters asked pulling out her pistol and checking it.
“Thirty,” the driver said, putting on a helmet and walking away.
Griffey walked around the Suburban, looking at the laptop and Schmidt got in front of the three, stopping them. “If I’m not mistaken, none of you have on a vest. I advise you to stay in the back because we know Joshua is very crafty and I’m finding it hard to believe he made a mistake like this,” Schmidt said, looking around into the forest.
“He’s a man and eventually we all make mistakes,” Griffey said, looking up from the screen. “But you’re right, we should’ve brought our vests.”
When Griffey walked past, Schmidt looked at Moore. “Oh, Joshua’s made mistakes, but we just haven’t been able to capitalize,” he said.
“What mistakes?” Moore asked, following the men up the dirt road.
“He stays too long at an ambush site,” Schmidt said, walking beside Moore. “You hit and run.”
“He wants supplies,” Moore said.
“He doesn’t need them and at an ambush, you get away because your enemy knows you’re there,” Schmidt said. “I think Joshua does it just to make us mad.”
Moore smiled and lowered his voice, seeing the men ahead scanning the ground and woods. “Very good Schmidt,” he said.
“And that’s the other mistake Joshua has made, he’s taking this war personally. In combat, you fight, not get revenge,” Schmidt whispered.
“Well, in all fairness to Joshua, we forced him to take that mindset,” Moore said as he eased his hand up to rest on his pistol. The tension from the men ahead was starting to get contagious.
“That’s what I mean, he let us dictate his state of mind. That gives us an edge,” Schmidt mumbled, glancing around.
Behind them and listening, Winters began to really want Schmidt to be a Minuteman. Besides his insight, Schmidt was moving with confidence. “So, how do we capitalize on that?” Moore whispered back.
“Send a team out to get hit and have another close by. When Joshua hits them, wipe him out,” Schmidt said and looked at Moore. “From here on, stay quiet.” Moore nodded as Schmidt moved in front of them.
The group walked the last mile to Joshua’s cabin with several panting when they stopped just below the steppe Joshua’s cabin sat on. “He hasn’t left. Team one will breach with team two on the front and team three on the south,” Wagner whispered and waved his hand for the men to move.
When the men moved off, Wagner moved back to Griffey. “Sir, move up to the tree line and watch your problem disappear,” Wagner grinned and moved into the woods, heading up the rise.
“I’ve waited for this,” Griffey smiled, pulling his pistol out and following Wagner.
Schmidt turned to look at Moore and Winters. “Stay close, these boys are trigger-happy big time. I would say wait here, but one of them might see you and just start shooting.”
“Sounds good,” Moore said, pulling his pistol out and gripping it with both hands. As the two walked off, Winters pulled out her pistol and followed.
“I swear, if you’re in there, I’m kicking your corpse,” Winters mumbled.
They stopped inside the trees and saw Joshua’s cabin thirty yards away. Ten men moved out of the trees in a staggered line, facing the cabin and aiming their rifles at it. Moore and Winters knelt down beside a large fir tree, keeping their pistols aimed down.
Wearing a huge grin, Moore tried to calm down as the team approached the steps. When the first man put a foot on the bottom step, Moore realized something and the grin dropped into a gaping mouth.
When the point man reached the top step, ‘BOOM’ shook the earth.
Like it’d happened in slow motion, Moore watched the first four men vanish in a mist. The next six were thrown back as projectiles flew through their bodies. A loud thunk sounded on the tree and Moore turned to see a large bolt stuck in the trunk.
Suddenly, he heard screaming beside him as gunfire erupted from the tree line. Moore dropped down to his stomach and looked up at the cabin and saw hundreds of shells hitting it, chewing away at the wood. A ‘blump’ sounded to his left and a small explosion sounded inside the cabin.
Hearing the screaming beside him still going strong, Moore looked over to see one of Wagner’s team holding his left leg. A large hole was over his thigh squirting out blood. Schmidt moved over, pulling out a dressing and put it over the hole as Moore saw another man lying down with his face missing.
“Grenade” was shouted and Moore dropped back on his stomach.
“They didn’t learn a lesson last time!” Winters shouted on the ground beside him.
“Those guys at the door are dead!” he shouted back.
“I’m talking about us!”
Moore lifted his head and heard a larger explosion from the cabin and turned as another grenade sailed through a window on the side of the house. “Seems their aim has improved,” he said, dropping his face to the dirt as another explosion shook the ground and the roar of gunfire continued.
“How much ammo do these guys carry?” she shouted, covering her ears.
“We don’t want to know,” Moore said, hearing a crash and lifted his head up to see half of the front porch had caved in.
“Cease fire!” Wagner shouted and the gunfire stopped. “Team two on me!” he shouted and charged the house.
Lifting her head up, Winters was in awe, seeing Wagner lead the team to the house. “I can’t believe that yellow bastard is doing that,” she said.
“Why not? Nobody could live through that and all those explosions would’ve set off any more traps,” Schmidt said, tying a tourniquet on the man’s leg.
Nodding and getting to her knees, “Good point,” she said, watching Wagner kick the shattered door aside. The men poured in after him and she held her breath.
“He’s not in there,” Schmidt said, working on the wounded man. “Nobody would put that kind of charge to go off and stay inside a structure.”
“That wasn’t a claymore,” Moore said getting up.
“No, that was black powder. Several pounds of black powder that Joshua used to make a claymore,” Schmidt said. “A one-inch ball bearing is what went through this guy’s leg.”
“Yeah, there’s a huge bolt stuck in this tree,” Moore said, watching the cabin as Wagner stepped out, waving his hand. “What’s that?”
“All clear,” Winters said, getting to her feet.
Griffey took off in a sprint toward the cabin. “Where’s the body?” he shouted, jumping over the remains of the entry team.
“You have to love his con
cern for his fellow agents,” Schmidt said, looking up.
“Yeah, he really is a lower lifeform,” Moore said, turning to Schmidt. “You need some help with him?”
“He’s dead,” Schmidt said, getting up. “His leg was bleeding so much, I missed a hole in his pelvis.”
“You tried,” Moore said. “You think it’s safe to move up?”
“To the cabin, yes, but let me check the barn or whatever that other building is,” Schmidt said, walking away. “I’m not checking the outhouse, so if something’s there, you clear it.”
“I’ll shit in the woods,” Moore said, then headed to the cabin to see Griffey in a towering rage.
“How could he leave?” Griffey screamed and spun on Wagner. “He can’t be far, have your men search around the cabin!”
As Wagner yelled out orders, Moore stopped at the steps and saw a metal hook screwed into the post beside the steps. “That’s why Joshua didn’t use the steps,” he said, and Griffey spun on him.
“What?”
“Remember in the video, Joshua jumped up on the ends of the porch. He never used the steps,” Moore said, looking at the destroyed stack of firewood beside the door. A large metal rectangle was embedded in the logs of the front wall.
Schmidt came up behind him. “That was Joshua’s claymore,” he said, jumping on the porch. He looked through the debris and reached down lifting up a piece of wire. “Man, this fucker is good. This is a twelve-volt light bulb and there are pieces of a battery up here. That’s how Joshua rigged the gunpowder to go off.”
Griffey spun around and got in Schmidt’s face. “Get your ass out there and find him, he can’t be far!”
“Gladly, but don’t you want someone close, in case Joshua starts taking shots from a long way off? I think I would want someone with a long rifle close,” Schmidt said, laying the wire down gently.
Griffey’s eyes got wide as he ducked down, looking around in terror. “Stay here,” he said in a low voice then eased inside the destroyed cabin.
“Moore, his calling card is in the barn, along with a new set of cards,” Schmidt said.
Nodding, Moore walked over to the barn with Winters following. They walked in and saw the scrench stuck in a wooden table with playing cards beside it. “Royal flush,” Moore said, looking at the cards.
The Bonner Incident: Joshua's War Page 20