FREEFALL (A Megalith Thriller Book 1)

by D R Sanford

  Cullen quickly lowered the pistol to his side and looked around.

  The two smokers scrambled through the patio door.

  Frightened expressions inside the bar accused him.

  Cullen returned to his senses and ran.

  ***

  Descending the patio's five steps in a bound and reaching the river-walk, Cullen drove his body to top speed. He needed to put distance between himself and the shooting as quickly as possible. Restaurants and nightclubs passed by on the left as he wove through pedestrians and wished away the ringing in his ears.

  Cullen lowered his head, evened out his stride, and hoped he looked like nothing more than a trail runner. He approached a footbridge, but rather than run up the bank and cross the river, Cullen ducked into the darkness below.

  The surge of adrenaline was gone. Cullen dropped to his knees, lungs burning, legs cramping, and mind reeling from how the day had spun so far out of control.

  Vomit burst forth, splattering on the gravel, his retching echoing under the bridge. Sirens converged from all directions, heading for The Drunken Boar. He turned back to look upriver and saw a crowd building on the bar's patio. Flashlight beams swung back and forth on the river-walk, beating back the darkness, searching for Cullen.

  His adrenal gland pumped again. In a panic, Cullen deposited the handgun in his pants pocket and stripped off the hooded sweatshirt. He tossed it into the river then made his way across the scrabble and darkness to the other side.

  Cullen faced a park, one of the many joining downtown shops to the university. He sprinted through the shelter of oaks, keeping to the shadows, trying to outrun pursuit and reality.

  He jogged passed the academic buildings, just another runner on campus heading home toward the several blocks of student housing that perched on the university’s far end. Fraternity houses, apartments, and homes rented out for the school year.

  Students choked the sidewalks, hopping from house to house with their plastic cups of party fuel in hand. Popular music pounded out the bass thump.

  Five dollars and an appetite for beer could get you in just about anywhere that night. Cullen identified a promising hideout, the front porch full of undergrads lost in conversations. Cars lined the dimly lit streets as far as he could see.

  He walked up the stairs wearing a grin and caught the attention of a girl occupying the threshold.

  “Is Tim inside?” he asked.

  She tried to place him for a second but shrugged it off and replied, “Probably in the basement. I need five bucks if you want in.”

  “I'm just looking for—“

  “Yeah yeah, five bucks.”

  She held her palm out for cash and eyed him over the rim of her cup.

  Cullen patted his pockets, leaving the right hand over the outline of the pistol, and dug in the left pocket for a few loose bills. He fanned out the money, and she plucked a five. Before he could get away, she snagged his sleeve. Was she suspicious? He tried to act naturally but did not have much confidence at that point.

  “House rules include no fighting, no bedrooms, and no puking. If you have to hurl, do it in the bushes.”

  Cullen let out the breath he'd been holding in, saying, “No problem.”

  “Have fun.”

  He faded into the party, hearing another “five bucks” behind him and imagined she must be an honor student in the business school. He passed a score of students in the living room. They happily yelled over the music and partook of the age-old tradition of underage drinking.

  Cullen stopped briefly to witness a keg stand in action and mumbled to himself, “There is no way that was invented while anyone was sober.”

  He crossed a group in the kitchen sitting around a table. Each person had a beer cup in front of them, and turn after turn they bounced a quarter on the tabletop in an attempt to land it in an opponent's cup. Cullen circled along their edge to the back door and saw what he was looking for. Car keys dangled on a row of hooks screwed into the cupboards nearest the door.

  Cullen looked back to the party-goers. All attention was focused on a burly young man chugging the beer in his cup and displaying the quarter in his front teeth. Still watching the players, Cullen reached up and extracted a ring of keys. The other hand gripped the door handle.

  He pushed it open and stepped onto the landing.

  Cullen panicked at the sight of the man standing on the bottom step. A meeting that was far too coincidental considering they hadn’t seen each other in months.

  —Chapter 9—

  THE GROVE

  Laeg recognized the panic in Cullen’s eyes and barely swung his forearm up in time to block a right hook. He let the strike follow through, then swept his arm in underneath the punch, across the body for a grip on the opposite shoulder.

  He tightened the chokehold, pressing Cullen’s right shoulder into the adjoining carotid artery that sends oxygen to the brain. Squeezed his arm into the left carotid. Laeg held on tight while encouraging Cullen to calm down. Unfortunately, Cullen had a lot of fight in him and did not relax until oxygen deprivation set in, forcing unconsciousness.

  He deposited Cullen on the back steps. Squatting in the beer soaked ground below, Laeg regarded Cullen with the utmost sympathy.

  The poor guy had no idea how Laeg had failed him or how he fit in to the storm that was brewing. He looked peaceful in those brief moments, taking a respite from the running that had begun and may not stop anytime in the near future.

  Reaching out, Laeg patted Cullen’s pockets until he found the Kahr .45 and removed it. He stashed it in his jacket and rocked back on his heels, waiting patiently for his friend’s return to awareness.

  Muscle spasms contorted Cullen’s face before his eyelids fluttered open. He inhaled deeply, centered on Laeg, and automatically pawed at his pockets. The last thing Laeg wanted was to grapple with Cullen again. They did not have all night to work through Cullen's newfound paranoia.

  “Whoa, settle yourself there, brother. We're all friends here. Granted, I took you by surprise a moment ago, but I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Cullen eyed him suspiciously. Probably a healthy practice given what he'd been through.

  Apparently satisfied that his weapon was nowhere on his person, Cullen responded, “Then what are you doing here, and how did you find me?”

  “How did I find you? Well, I ran my ass off is what I did. You're a bit faster than you look, did you know that, Cullen? I had a devil of a time keeping up with you in the park.”

  “You've been following me?”

  “Aye, brother, for most of the day in fact. Since you disappeared from Dixon Hall in a flurry and began stalking good ole detective Walker. To tell the truth, I didn’t think you had the stones to kill the man, though.”

  Cullen hung his head at the last comment, concentrating on the lines that spread across his palms.

  “He caught me by surprise and pulled the gun on himself.” His head raised, looking to Laeg for absolution. “I just wanted to know where Nora was.”

  Laeg leveled a serious gaze on Cullen and held up a forefinger to keep his attention.

  “Get this straight, Cullen. The world is currently a better place for that man's absence. He spent a lifetime destroying the lives of others and convinced himself the entire time that he was simply a good soldier. When he finally makes it there, the bastard will burn in hell for eternity.”

  That seemed to have the desired effect on Cullen. His features softened, but Laeg could see the conflicts rising within. He was tormented by some new knowledge and hunted within his own town.

  “Cullen, look at me and hear what I'm saying now. We have to get you out of town in a hurry before the net closes around you. There's no telling how many of Walker's crew are in town, and I guarantee they will not allow you to reach the jailhouse alive.”

  Laeg caught the set of Cullen's jaw and saw a determination form that could damn them both.

  “I'm not leaving,” Cullen said. “I know where they
took Nora.”

  Laeg stood, scanning the surroundings while he worked over the repercussions of Cullen's statement. The driveway to the left was blocked with cars. The same was true behind them, where the housemates pulled in from a back alley to park their vehicles. Everything seemed normal, but they had to start moving again or risk discovery.

  “How do you know where she is, Cullen?”

  Insistence spat from Cullen's lips. “Walker told me before he pulled the trigger. He told me to go to The Grove worship center out on county Q.”

  “Hmm. I hate to break it to you, but she's not there, brother.”

  “I'm not your brother, Laeg, and for your information, he told me that's where the women are taken. I'm going there, and I sure don't remember inviting you to come with me.”

  This conversation was taking too long, and Laeg burned to be in motion, preferably miles away from there.

  “So, what's your plan? Storm a new-age church in the middle of the night and demand your missing wife?”

  Cullen raised himself from the steps and dangled a set of car keys in his fingers. “Well, boyo, not long ago I had keys and a gun. What are you bringing to the table?”

  Laeg's eyebrows arched, and a begrudging smile broke out.

  “I, my friend, bring more guns. Shall we go get them?”

  ***

  Laeg demanded to drive and was rewarded with the keys. Cullen sat in the passenger seat, facing Laeg and asking questions about everything, from being followed to whatever he seemed to know about Walker's activities. Laeg determined that ignorance was in Cullen's best interest at the moment and focused his attention on the streets around them.

  Odds were good that the police were not looking for two men cruising in a pink Volkswagen beetle with flower decals, but one could never be sure. For the most part, he successfully deflected Cullen's questions with non-committal responses like, “I wish I knew” and “I never found out” but knew he’d be cornered with the entire story sooner or later.

  Just not that night. Not when he needed Cullen to cover his backside.

  They reached Laeg's rental without incident, the upper floor of a two story Victorian that had seen better days. He parked the VW on the curb, then motioned for Cullen to follow. After disengaging two deadbolts, Laeg tossed his key ring to Cullen with instructions to wait in the garage.

  Passing through the house, Laeg recovered his valuables, stuffed them in two spacious duffel bags, and exited the building without bothering to lock the door. By no means would he be returning.

  He entered the garage by the side door and caught Cullen leaning against the passenger door of his beauty. A toss of the keys from Cullen, and he circled around to the driver's side. He inserted a key, opened the creaking door, and stowed his bags in the back. Taking a seat, Laeg stretched for the passenger side to unlock the other door.

  Cullen slipped into the low bucket seat and turned an appreciative smile to Laeg. “What the hell is a visiting Irishman doing with a classic GTO?”

  Laeg reached up to press the garage door opener and replied, “Are you kidding me? My whole life I've been trotted around in the likes of a Fiat Uno gas sipper with the pickup of a lazy donkey. What the hell do you think I'd be driving here in the states?”

  The engine roared to life. They hit the driveway with a spray of gravel. Building g-forces pinned them against the seats as they shot down the residential street.

  ***

  Laeg cut the engine and lights, then coasted into The Grove's parking lot toward the shadows that occupied its northern perimeter. This was the last place he wanted to be, but he knew Cullen wouldn’t move on until they'd investigated the building and were positive that Nora was no longer there. That and perhaps he could get a feel for Cullen's reactions under pressure.

  Having performed a thorough search of the building the week after Nora's abduction, Laeg was positive they were going to be disappointed. Back then, he’d checked around and left without raising any alarms. There was no way to prepare for tonight’s adventure, however, and there were bound to be surprises when trying to invade a guarded building with a newbie on his heels.

  Laeg shifted the transmission into reverse and engaged the parking brake. Turning to face Cullen, he offered one more opportunity to walk away.

  “Are you sure you want to go in there? I know for a fact there are armed men in that building who know their business.”

  Cullen blinked and visibly gathered himself as he peered through the windshield at the stone facade.

  “I have to. I mean, why would a man—a second before committing suicide—tell me to come here if there wasn't something worth looking for?”

  “Perhaps Walker believed he was as good as dead and simply fed you to the dogs?”

  That drew a tightening of Cullen's lips and a shift of his eyes.

  “I hadn't considered that. Besides, you weren't there. He had something eating at him. I can't explain why, but I just believed him.”

  Laeg shrugged and withdrew the keys from the ignition.

  “Just checking, brother. It doesn't hurt getting your head up to speed with your heart now, does it?”

  “By the way, why do you keep calling me brother?”

  “It’s a common expression where I’m from. I just don't fancy calling you buddy like the locals.”

  He twisted in the seat and pulled a duffel from the back. Unzipping it on his lap, he searched its contents and extracted two matte black handguns. He offered one to Cullen, though he looked very disinterested in handling it.

  “Laeg, I appreciate it, but I've already killed a man today. All I want is to find Nora and keep her safe.”

  “I know you do. Trust me though, from here on out, you will either kill or be killed.”

  Laeg could see the set of Cullen's jaw and fought back the urge to slap him.

  “Shite, Cullen. Here, you stick these in your pants and be ready to put them in my hands when I call for them.”

  “You're not going in unarmed are you?”

  “Hell no. I've got two for each of us.”

  Laeg instructed Cullen to stand in the shadows near the building's rear fire door. Having infiltrated the worship center several times in January and February, he knew the security's blind spots right down to the parking spot where he left the GTO.

  With Cullen safely planted near the door, Laeg blinked an LED flashlight on and off until he found the external communications box. He flipped open a three-inch blade, pried off the access panel, and clamped his teeth on the flashlight.

  Operating with practiced ease, Laeg plucked the wires he needed and returned to Cullen. He brushed his fingers along the two paddle holsters securing his Glock .45’s to the back of Cullen's waistband. That part appeared to be in order.

  “Are you ready for this, Cullen?”

  “I'm not sure. I don't think I have a choice, though. Why are you here again?”

  “Me? Well, I am here because you insist on checking for Nora.”

  “That doesn't answer much, Laeg. You followed me all day, showed up to whisk me away, and now we're loaded for an assault on a church. What the hell's going on?”

  Laeg sighed heavily, unsure of how much Cullen could stand to take for the day.

  “Think of it this way. I represent a group that is interested in keeping you, your wife, and your unborn child alive at very great risk to ourselves. Does that help you at all?”

  “Not much. It’s—”

  “Clear as mud, I know, but that will have to do for now. Do you trust me?”

  Shadows veiled Cullen's expressions. Laeg saw conflicting emotions roiling within the man.

  “I don't have a choice.”

  “Of course you do, lad. Trust me, and maybe we’ll find something that will lead us to Nora. You can also hop in that car there, drive into town, and turn yourself in. Or, you can walk around the front of this building, knock on the door, and someone will happily put a bullet in your brain. Now, seeing as how I haven't killed you ye
t, where do you think the better option lies?”

  “Point taken. What do you want me to do?”

  Laeg squeezed Cullen's shoulders, hoping to instill a sense of assurance they both needed. With Walker's death, there was no telling what threat level the internal forces were operating under.

  “For you, it's easy,” Laeg said, straightening fingers on his right hand to count off his instructions. “Unless I'm bleeding on the floor, don't even bother with the weapons. No talking. Follow my flashlight. Stay behind me and take cover if anything happens. Oh, and be damn quick to hand me a weapon if I call for one. Got it?”

  Cullen nodded in the darkness. His shoulders rose higher with greater inhalations of breath.

  Laeg barely heard him whisper, “Got it.”

  Laeg addressed the nearby door and pointed to the ground behind him with the flashlight. As Cullen moved to the rear, Laeg slid back the deadbolt with a bump key he’d made and cautiously pulled the door outward. Just as he hoped, no alarms sounded, no lights shined in the rear hallway.

  He motioned for Cullen to enter, then stepped in and closed the door without a sound. Clicking the flashlight on, Laeg pointed it at the floor and walked to their right down a sparsely lit corridor until they reached a flight of steps. He leaned over the rail, checking for any presence at the bottom and proceeded downward, his light footfalls almost noiseless. Cullen was doing a fine job so far. He controlled his breathing, quieted the tread of his shoes on the steps well enough. Perhaps they could make it in and out alive after all.

  Double doors met them at the bottom of the stairwell. They had no locks, but Laeg knew that security guards patrolled the lower halls. On the other side of the doors, two intersecting corridors split the basement into quadrants. Other than the stairwell they had descended, the only other access was via an elevator requiring key card access. The Grove's patrons had no idea a lower level even existed.

  Laeg whispered, “Remember to stay quiet and follow my lead. Ready?”

  “Ready.”