by O. K. Mills
“Dad?”
Garrison Spade looked at his youngest son, the son he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. Part of him wanted to run over and hug him. Another part of him wanted to punch him in the face. Instead, he channeled his emotions into more relevant information gathering.
“Jaysiel, what in blazes are you doing here with Brynn?”
Brynn grinned at him while holding his father’s hand.
“You know her, dad?” Spade asked incredulously.
“Know her? I raised her right here at this safe house.”
Spade looked at Heather whose eyes were just as wide as his own. They both looked back at his father.
“Dad, do you have any idea what she can do?”
Garrison gave him a look that said, “What do you think?”
“I’ve been trying to keep her safe all day! There are people who have been trying to kill—”
Garrison held up his hand to stop his son mid-sentence.
“Let’s go inside, and you can tell me what’s going on.”
Bear brought Cole and Walker up to speed on all of the events of the day, including as much classified information he felt the need to share. There was some initial doubt when he spoke to them about God Mode, but the more he explained the situation, along with the growing mound of compelling tangible evidence, the deeper their beliefs became.
“What do you mean you can’t call them?” Cole asked exasperatedly.
“I can’t call them. There is no way to contact the safe house,” Bear repeated.
“Why not?”
“Well, for starters I don’t have the number.”
“You can’t look it up?” Cole asked.
“It’s not a hotel. You can’t exactly Google it,” said Walker.
“Even if I did have the number, it would be secure. But it’s a moot point anyway. The site is a dead zone,” said Bear.
“Dead zone?” asked Cole.
“Cellular dead zone,” Walker answered, “It’s like when you enter an area and your call drops—only when they do it, it’s on purpose.”
Cole gave a look that expressed that he’d just learned something.
“Welcome to a new room,” Walker quipped with a wink.
Cole paused in thought for a moment before looking towards the two-way mirror.
“Asha, did we get confirmation from that SEDCREP—”
“SEFDEC,” Bear corrected.
“SEFDEC,” Cole mocked, “on the body count and their video surveillance?”
Asha replied via intercom.
“We did, sir. Survivors have confirmed that they have video evidence that matches the description of the man in the other interview room.”
Bear raised his hands as if to say, “I told you I wasn’t lying.”
“I still need a statement from Spade and Heather Wolfe. You don’t suppose they would double back to see if the safe house is underground, do you?”
“It’s a shot in the dark,” answered Bear.
“How far is this safe house from here?”
“It’s about 20 miles west in the middle of Conway Robinson Memorial State Forest.”
“We’ll roll ASAP. I need to call the governor and take Spade off the ‘obliterate on sight’ list,” Cole chuckled.
“What about the other guy?” asked Bear.
“Asha, have our guest in interview room B moved to holding, and place two guards there on watch.”
“Yes, sir,” Asha replied.
Pike paced continuously inside of a small, dimly lit holding cell. He wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, but he knew he had been in there for at least 15 minutes. He was moved to the cell from an interview room once confirmation of the several murders he had committed at the SOCOM facility came pouring into the department.
They weren’t really sure what to do with him at this point. Murdering Winter Harlin meant involving the President, which meant he might not ever see any actual “due process.” He already knew they’d get nothing from his plates, prints or dental records. If they wanted information from him, which they certainly would, then they’d probably torture him. And while he’d certainly experienced torture before, he definitely wasn’t looking forward to repeating the experience.
Sharon was useless to him at this point. She wouldn’t come for him, but that was actually a blessing. If they had her, they’d break her, and she knew entirely too much. Hopefully, she was smart enough to lay low.
No, his only option at this point was Asha. She had to get him out without blowing her cover and get him the information as to where those others had taken Brynn. As if on cue, she came walking into the holding area and spoke to the guards who stood on duty just outside of his cell.
“We’re moving him, fellas,” she informed the two guards as she walked up.
“Already? We just put him in there?” one of the guards said.
“It’s not me; it’s the folks at SECDEF. He killed a lot of people over there. This is officially out of our hands.”
Even Pike wasn’t entirely sure how much she was saying was actually true. He stood calmly as the other guard opened his cell and moved to put cuffs back on him.
SNAP!
Twirling the man around like a ballerina, Pike snapped his neck like a twig. As the remaining guard went for his gun, Asha shot him in the back of the head with a silenced Glock 9mm. Before the man fell dead, she was already tossing her weapon to Pike.
“Shoulder wound, please sir.”
“I think I can manage that,” Pike said as he sized up the shot.
PAP!
Asha grimaced as the bullet went straight through her shoulder. Pike took the weapons of the slain guards, and once he finished, Asha handed him the keys to her Chevy Impala.
“Where am I headed?” Pike asked.
“Conway Robinson State Forest. About a half an hour west on 66, there is a safe house hidden underground. Get going.”
“Neither of you is going anywhere. I knew you were helping him!” a voice suddenly yelled out.
Rickey Sweeney stood before them with his weapon drawn.
PAP PAP!
Pike put two bullets in Sweeney’s skull so quickly that Asha didn’t even have a moment to actually express feigned shock at the accusation. Instead, she conveyed relief as she watched the one person who had known the truth fall dead to the floor.
“Be more careful next time,” Pike admonished her sarcastically, then exited the holding area.
11: Family Reunion
“When Brynn turned four years old, her parents were found dead and charred to a crisp in a totaled automobile at the bottom of a ravine. What the Virginia State Trooper who discovered them had not expected to find was a child who was not only still alive, but who didn’t even smell like smoke. And this wasn’t even the oddest thing. What topped the list of peculiarities was that the officer did not report back in. Dispatch sent out two additional troopers who, once they had found the original officer, were alarmed to see that he was just as dead as Brynn’s parents, and yet the child was still none the worse for wear.”
“Was there a sniper or something?” Spade asked his father after getting the history lesson on Brynn.
Shaking his head, Garrison shrugged.
“Don’t know. The additional cops they sent out simply brought her back to the station and learned—as I’m sure you all have—that even if Brynn wanted to tell them what had happened, she couldn’t. I imagine seeing your parents burn to a crisp before your very eyes while your own body miraculously heals itself would probably mess up anybody. She hasn’t uttered a word since that accident.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. How exactly did you communicate with her when she lived here with you?” Spade asked.
“Once she learned how to read and write, we gave her a small white board and some dry markers. I think one of the other kids that Connie fostered was deaf, so she probably picked up sign language too,” Garrison replied.
“I never thought t
o ask her to write anything,” Spade admitted out loud.
“But what about the first cop? How did he die?” asked Heather, her mind still on Brynn’s story.
“He burned to death just like the mom and dad. Forensics guys at the time seemed to believe that the vehicle was still on fire when he arrived, and the poor bastard just got too close. He was probably trying to get Brynn out.”
Spade looked over at Brynn who simply smiled and adjusted her glasses as she always did.
“You know she doesn’t need those glasses, right?” Garrison asked.
“Are you serious?” Spade asked.
“She has 20/20, son. Her eyes, like everything else on her, heal themselves. In fact I think she lost one of them in the accident, and it just regenerated itself. The glasses are for show, maybe protection too? Just because it heals doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like heck when you’re injured.”
“Dad, how did she end up with you?”
“When Connie decided to foster Brynn, she wanted her off the grid, but close enough that she could keep tabs on her. The governor used his connections, and eventually, the orders made their way to me. This house was one of several that she stayed in, but other than Connie’s foster home, she lived here the longest.”
“When did you become a housekeeper?” Heather asked.
“Shortly after boy wonder here went to Africa without telling a blessed soul,” said Garrison.
Spade ignored the shot and quickly asked another question.
“So you had her from the time she was four until?”
“Probably seven, maybe eight years old? By that time Connie had things set up in the last foster home, so Brynn went to live there permanently with her.”
Spade looked down at hearing Connie’s name a second time.
Garrison eyed his son, realizing what he had feared was true.
“If you’re here with her, then something is terribly wrong.”
Spade nodded.
“Connie’s dead, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is, sir” Heather replied.
“Silas finally found her, eh? Good thing you were there, Heather,” Garrison said.
“Actually, it was Spade who found her, sir. I’m here helping him,” Heather corrected.
“And how’d you get mixed up in this Jaysiel? Actually, never mind that, we need to call your brother and see what he—”
“Mike is dead, dad.”
Pike moved like a shadow out of the police precinct, slipped into Asha’s Chevy Impala, and eased out of the parking lot as casually as if he were going to purchase milk. He checked the rear view mirror for anyone following him but saw no one. He knew that wouldn’t last long. Once he merged onto the highway, he flipped on the police lights and drove as fast as possible to Gainesville.
Garrison stared blankly at his youngest son as he processed the news that his eldest son was gone. They stood in total silence for nearly three full minutes before anyone said anything.
“How did he die?”
“Mercenaries put half a clip in him.”
“You just watched him die?”
“No sir, I was stuck in his car at the time. He picked me up from the airport and got a call while we were driving back to the station. They were after Brynn. Mike went into the foster home and was killed trying to protect her,” Spade explained to his father.
“No, no, Brynn is a healer. Brynn would have healed him.”
“Mike was dead by the time she got to him.”
Garrison continued shaking his head, refusing to believe it.
“I held Mike in my arms, dad, right before Connie asked me to look after Brynn. I have been asking myself all day why she would trust me, but since she knew you, it all makes sense. She probably recognized me.”
“She probably recognized Mike and made do,” Garrison snapped.
Heather shot a look to Spade, ready to react if she needed to restrain him. He kept his cool, however.
“Brynn is alive, dad. I think she more than made do,” Spade fired back.
“Well, you had a lot of help from the looks of things. Heather and Brynn pretty much kept you alive, and I assume that Bear Bowden is somewhere working an angle on this too?”
“Why can’t you accept that maybe I did okay on my own?” Spade said a little louder with far less bass in his voice than he would have liked.
“Because you didn’t, Jaysiel. Your brother is dead. Funny how you come back to America and the first thing you do is take the one son I actually like away from me!”
Heather moved in front of Spade.
“Hey let’s take a walk, okay? Come on, let’s go outside and get some air,” Heather persuaded.
“Yeah, get him out of here before I throw him out!” Garrison barked as he watched Heather escort his son to the door.
Once they’d left the house, Garrison closed his eyes, sighed and whispered the words, “I’m sorry.” Unfortunately, the only person within earshot of that barely audible apology was Brynn. She was sitting in the corner of the main room with sorrow in her eyes.
Asha kneeled down, dipped her hand into the blood oozing out of officer Sweeney as he lay dead on the floor, then smeared some of it over her face. She had to make the scene look convincing; a shoulder wound alone was probably not going to be enough.
She had already made certain that the security cameras hadn’t seen anything incriminating. Now, it was just a matter of working up a few tears to convince her fellow officers of her innocence.
She took a deep breath, then slammed her forehead into the bars of the holding cell that Pike had been inside of. She saw stars for a moment before blood cascaded into her eyes, which was actually perfect. She no longer needed to fake tears.
She hobbled into the main area of the precinct holding her head and clutching her arm with the bullet wound close to her body. When her fellow officers saw her, she didn’t need to say a word.
“Jesus! Somebody get Asha some help!” Cole yelled when he saw her. Officers scrambled while Walker and Cole ran to assist her.
“What happened?”
“I walked into the holding area, and Pike had somehow managed to free himself. He clipped me in the shoulder, and I slammed my head while trying to dodge his fire,” Asha explained.
“No!” Walker gasped and went running toward the holding area. The wail that erupted from him upon seeing the murdered body of Rickey Sweeney could be heard for a full block. When Asha and Cole caught up, they found Walker sitting in Sweeney’s blood, cradling his head and smoothing out the young man’s hair.
“Stay with me, Ricky … stay with me, son … it’s going to be okay…” Walker mumbled. Asha went to reach for him, but Cole stopped her and shook his head. He gently guided her out and pointed to the cars.
“The Impala is missing!” an officer yelled out in their direction.
“We’ve gotta move now” Cole screamed and headed out of the precinct to one of the Crown Victorias still available. Bear Bowden followed after Cole and got into the back of the vehicle.
Asha breathed an inward sigh before following the two men to the car.
Finally arriving, Pike parked Asha’s car and followed the directions she’d given him. He reasoned that no one would bother it, or rather notice it, as it was a police vehicle. Because the officers had confiscated his cell phone, he had to ask different people if they had cellular service to find the dead zone.
After several minutes, he had found what he was looking for. Off in the distance, he saw the two he had fought earlier at the hidden military site. They had seemingly come up out of the ground and made certain to cover the entrance with what appeared to be field turf of some kind. He waited until they walked a couple of hundred yards away from the entrance before making his move.
It took a while, but the forensics officers finally got Walker to let go of Sweeney’s body so that they could begin their work. Sorrow overflowing from his eyes, he gazed despairingly at the young man he’d practically raised as his own
son.
All the kid needed was a rabbi—someone high in the department who believed in him—but that certainly wasn’t Walker. However, Cole could have easily vouched for him. Sweeney would have found himself in the same position as Asha—working for a detective on rise and making a real name for himse—
…wait…no…
The revelation hit Walker hard like a sack of bricks. Asha had called the man Pike. She had access to the same equipment that the rest of the department had. There was no way she could have pulled up the name of this man that quickly when every other officer had come up empty. For all they knew up to this point, the man in the cell did not exist. The only reason Walker knew who Bear was, was because they had met before.
If I had listened to Sweeney earlier...
Stepping out of his own thoughts for a moment, Walker asked one of the officers nearby, “What did we do with the items we took from the man who escaped from holding?”
“All the guy had was a cell phone and some cash. No identification of any kind. It’s all down in evidence.”
“I need it.” Walker demanded.
“Sir, that’s evidence now. I don’t think—”
“Now,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Did you hear what he said to me?” Spade yelled, “He said I took the one son he actually liked away from him! Seriously?”
“Take it down a notch, Chicken Little,” Heather responded.
Spade shot her a glare, and she held up her hands in surrender.
“I have been told once already today that I am the human equivalent of sandpaper. I apologize. That was probably curt and insensitive,” she managed.
Spade just shook his head, plopped down on the grass and held his head in his hands. It took a few moments, but Heather eventually sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. Not long after, Spade let go of a mountain of pent-up emotions and wept bitterly.