by Alan Cook
Drake said, “The only way this has a chance of working is the innocent approach. I’ll walk up to the front door and try to crash their party. You two stay hidden. You’ll be my backup.”
Melody started to say something, but he glared her into silence.
“Hopefully, I’ll get inside and start greeting people. ‘Hi, Casey, hi, Dad, a little bird told me you were here. Thought I’d drop by and say hello. Can’t stay long; got a race for a million dollars tomorrow, but maybe we can chat for a minute.’”
When he said the words out loud, he realized how lame they sounded. But what choice did he have? They walked along the road to the entrance. What impressed Drake was how dark it was. No outside lights shone on the grounds. Clouds covered the moon and stars. Slick had a flashlight, but he would need it more than Drake because he and Melody were remaining outside. Slick also had a gun, which he offered to Drake, but Drake knew that carrying a gun would be ineffective and counterproductive.
Slick pointed to a couple of lights faintly visible in the distance through the trees.
“Those lights are coming from the windows. You can follow the driveway. There are several vehicles, including a bus, parked along it. I heard two guards talking at one point, but I could barely see them. I didn’t want to cause a commotion by taking them out, so I waited in the trees until they went away. Be careful when you’re walking. It’s dark as the inside of a whale’s belly.”
Drake’s eyes were still getting acclimated to the dark. He could make out a few vertical trunks of trees but not much else. They decided that Slick and Melody would wait for thirty minutes. If Drake didn’t appear by then, they would take whatever action they deemed appropriate.
Melody gave Drake a hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Not a chance.”
Drake started walking slowly along the driveway, keeping his hands in front of him, feeling for real and imaginary obstacles. After a few steps he looked back, but Melody and Slick had already been swallowed by the night. The driveway was uneven gravel; Drake had to watch his footing to avoid twisting an ankle. Wouldn’t it be ironic to run over 500 miles without injuring his legs or feet, only to have it happen here?
He wished he could see as well as he could smell the woodsy scent of the pine trees. It reminded him of hiking with his father when he was young. Those days were gone for good.
He didn’t see the bus until he almost ran into it. Strange, because the dark was a gray color, not black, and he had the illusion he could see more than this incident suggested. He redoubled his caution. If he could just get inside where he could make contact with his father, he should be safe.
The driveway curved; he couldn’t head straight for the lighted windows because tree trunks partially obscured his view of them, and he suspected that the ground among the trees was rough. He found one car and then another. He must be following the same route that Slick had followed.
Nothing blocked his view of the windows now. He could walk directly toward them. He saw people inside, but he was too far away to recognize anybody.
Suddenly he hit the ground. He had tripped over a rock and fallen forward so fast his hands had failed to protect him. Judging from the all-encompassing pain, he had hurt his head and just about everything else.
He lay on the ground for several seconds, trying to determine what parts of him were operational. He heard a noise and saw a light sweep over him. He rose to his knees but was blinded by the light, which was now shining directly in his eyes. The voice behind the light spoke. “What are you doing here?”
Drake was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t see his questioner. He remained silent. He felt something running down his forehead. He must have cut himself. Blood was heading toward his eye. He reached for his pocket that contained a handkerchief.
“Don’t move.”
The man thought he was going for a gun. He raised his hands to show they were empty. Better to have blood in his eye than a bullet. The man spoke to somebody else. The second man appeared in the light of the flashlight. He walked up to Drake and roughly twisted his hands behind him one at a time, handcuffing them together.
“Get up.”
Easier said than done. Drake rose slowly and awkwardly, feeling pain in both knees as he did. The man who had handcuffed him patted him down, searching for weapons. He grabbed Drake’s arm and urged him forward. The other at least had the courtesy to shine the flashlight in his path so he wouldn’t trip again. He walked slowly, not having his hands free to protect himself. He could see with one eye; the vision of the other was blurred by the blood. They escorted him around a corner of the building and down a dirt slope strewn with pine needles and the occasional rock.
One opened a door and then pushed him through the doorway. A light was turned on. Drake could see through a window that the guards had also turned on the outside lights. They were in what looked like a recreation room. It had wood-paneled walls. Drake saw a pool table and another for table tennis. He determined that this room was on a floor below the one where the conference was in session.
Drake turned and looked at his captors. They were big men wearing suits. The one holding the flashlight held a gun in his other hand. How many of these people did Casey employ?
A round table—perhaps for playing cards—sat along one wall with chairs surrounding it. The man without a gun turned around one of the chairs and indicated that Drake should sit in it. When Drake didn’t move fast enough to satisfy him, he shoved Drake into the chair. Drake’s handcuffed hands hit the back of the chair, but he repressed an epithet. He had to do something to even the odds.
“Okay, you can take the cuffs off now. I need to wipe the blood out of my eye.”
The man peered at his forehead. “You’ll live. You don’t need to see.”
It was time to play his ace. “I came here to see my father, Admiral Drake. He’s in the meeting upstairs. My name is Oliver Drake. I’m part of Running California.”
The men looked at each other. The one with the gun laughed and said, “Nice try, Jack.”
“I’m wearing my Running California jacket.”
“Any idiot can buy one of those things. They’re for sale all over the place. I got one for my boy.”
“My wallet is in my front right pocket. It has my identification.”
The men looked at each other again. Drake was trying to use the tone of somebody in command. Men like these were used to taking orders. The man with the gun nodded to the other one who pulled Drake’s wallet out of his pocket and checked his I.D.
“He’s got a California driver’s license, says his name is Oliver Drake.”
The man with the gun looked at his watch and said to the other guard, “We’re not supposed to interrupt the meeting unless it’s really important. It’s probably going to go on for another hour.”
Drake couldn’t wait an hour. The world as they knew it could end by then. “I’ve got information that concerns Mr. Messinger and everybody in that meeting. They need it now.”
“I thought you came to see your daddy.”
“That too.”
The man with the gun looked skeptical, but he also realized that his job was on the line if he did the wrong thing. “Take off his cuffs and let him clean himself up. I’ll go up and talk to Mr. Messinger.”
With his hands free, Drake was allowed to use a bathroom that opened off the recreation room. He went inside and shut the door. It didn’t have any windows, so he couldn’t escape, even if he wanted to. He wiped the blood from his eye and forehead with a paper towel and examined his head in the mirror. The cut should probably have a couple of stitches, but it had pretty much stopped bleeding. As the man said, he would live.
He came out of the bathroom to find that the man without a gun now had a gun. They still didn’t trust him. He tried to engage the guard in small talk but found that his supply of small talk was very small. Drake sat back down in the chair and waited for Casey.
In a short time he heard f
ootsteps coming down the stairs at the other side of the room. Casey appeared, followed by the guard. Casey was dressed in sport clothes. He spotted Drake and came striding across the room.
“Drake, what are you doing here?”
“I heard my father was here, so I thought I’d come and say hello.”
“What happened to your head? Did they do this to you?”
“No, I tripped in the dark.”
“Sorry. I forget how dark it gets.”
He spoke to the guard who had been watching Drake.
“Bennie, you can go back on patrol. Keep those outside lights on. We don’t need another accident.” And to the other one, “Artie, wait just outside the door and keep it open.”
Bennie and Artie went through the outside doorway. Casey pulled one of the other chairs away from the table and sat down, facing Drake. Drake measured the distance to the stairs from where he sat and from the doorway. The doorway was closer to the stairs.
Casey said, “As you apparently already know, I’m holding a meeting here tonight.”
“If I could just speak to him for a few minutes—”
“How did you find out about it? Did your dad tell you?”
“No. I…” Drake stopped, not having a ready answer.
Casey eyed him closely. “What are you doing here, anyway? You should be resting tonight. Tomorrow’s the final leg of the race, and you’ve got a shot at a million.”
“I thought this was more important.”
Casey didn’t ask the obvious incredulous question. He appeared to be mulling over what to say. Drake waited for him to speak first, which he did.
“I get the feeling that you’re not wholeheartedly behind me.”
“I don’t like to see the Constitution trampled.”
“I’m not here to have a constitutional debate with you, but as you know the founders of our country sanctioned rebellion in defense of freedom.”
“Defense of freedom? You’re overthrowing the government in the name of freedom?”
“Freedom from attack by a foreign power.”
So many rebuttals came to Drake’s mind that he was momentarily speechless. “Isn’t that the job of our duly elected president and members of Congress? And another thing. You talk about freedom, and yet you advocate taking the property of everyone who lives on the coast.”
“They will be compensated.”
“But what choice do they have? What’s next, taking everyone else’s property ‘in the national interest’?”
“Speaking of interest, it’s in your interest to join us. I’ve got the top military brass here, including the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. We’re the winning side, Drake. By tomorrow morning, we’ll control the government.”
“The military is under civilian control. The president is the Commander in Chief.”
“Starting tomorrow I’m going to be the civilian control. But don’t worry. It’s a bloodless coup. This will become the Western White House. I’m expecting you to finish the race. You’ll collect your per diem, and you’ve got a shot at really big money. Besides, there’s a place for you in my administration.”
“Let me talk to my father.”
“Sorry, there’s no time for that right now. I’ve got to get back to the meeting. I’m going to have Artie keep an eye on you until the meeting’s over. I suggest you rest in that reclining chair over there, try to get some sleep. After the meeting we’ll get you back to your motel.”
It couldn’t be as simple as Casey said. Typically, overthrowing a government required lots of bullets and bloodshed. But if he had the military behind him… Drake remembered something.
“It’s not a completely bloodless coup, is it? What about Grace?”
Casey looked surprised, then cunning. Finally, he shrugged. “There are always a few casualties along the way.”
Casey stood up and walked toward the outside door. As soon as his back was turned, Drake stood and started for the stairs. He took several quiet steps and then accelerated into a run, slowed by knee pain. He saw Artie running to cut him off. Damn. The guard hadn’t been napping. Artie must have played football, because he hit Drake with a solid tackle. Drake’s knees hit the floor, exacerbating the injuries he had received from his previous fall.
Before he could move, Artie put the gun to his head.
“I liked you, Drake. I really did.” Casey said the words to Drake and then whispered something in Artie’s ear. Artie put a knee in Drake’s back and handcuffed him while Drake listened to the clop of Casey’s shoes as he ascended the stairs.
Drake said, “What happens now?”
Artie said, “In five minutes we’re going outside.”
Drake didn’t have to ask where. Into the trees and far enough from the lodge that the people inside wouldn’t hear a shot.
CHAPTER 36
“The lights have been turned on.” Melody stated the obvious, partly to get Slick talking. He hadn’t said two words since Drake disappeared into the dark. The spotlights were located all around the building and also along the driveway.
Slick grunted. “Don’t know if that’s good or bad for our boy. It’s for sure he’s made contact, though.”
He looked at his watch with the aid of his flashlight. “Maybe I should go in there and see how he’s doing.”
Melody was having trouble waiting also. “We’ll go in together.”
Slick shone the flashlight on her feet. “Can you get around in those shoes?”
A typical male question. She didn’t have sneakers on, but they weren’t that bad.
“At least they aren’t heels.”
“It’ll be easier walking with the lights, but we’ve got to take extra care. Stay behind me.”
Melody was willing to do that. They approached the building, walking in the woods parallel to the driveway, so they wouldn’t be illuminated by the lights. Slick was able to use his flashlight to keep them from stumbling over roots and stones. Nobody would see it; the other lights drowned out its beam.
The trees ended at a cleared area surrounding the building, which was set on a hill, sloping up to the right. Slick stopped when he came to the edge of the trees and surveyed the open space. The lit windows were directly across the clearing from them. They were closed against the cool air of an evening in the mountains. Melody could see people inside, but her view was limited. She couldn’t tell whether Drake was among them. They didn’t see anybody outside.
Slick pulled out his gun. “Do you know how to use this?”
It was a standard nine millimeter. Melody nodded. She had been trained in the use of small arms. He handed it to her.
“Cover me. I’m going to see if Drake’s inside that room.”
Before he could move, a man came around the corner of the building to the right and uphill from them, obviously a guard. He walked slowly along the wall, illuminated by the floodlights on the building. He passed the lit windows and was approaching the closest point to Melody and Slick.
Slick whispered, “Before, there were at least two.”
They couldn’t worry about the other one. Melody handed the gun back to Slick.
“I’ll distract him and you can take him from behind.”
She walked out of the trees, angling so it would appear that she had come up the driveway. She called to the guard, but not loudly enough that she would be heard inside the building.
“Excuse me, sir. Can you help me? I’m lost.”
The man whirled around, his hand reaching inside his jacket. When he saw Melody, he paused and withdrew his hand without a gun.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m lost. I saw your lights. I think I got on the wrong road.”
“Come here.”
Melody didn’t move. She tried to look helpless. The guard approached her slowly, looking around for anyone else. Slick was still hidden in the trees. Melody turned her body so that the guard would have his back to Slick when he talked to her. The man was still wary, but he kept comin
g. Melody smiled at him.
“I knew you’d help me. I’m trying to get to San Jose. Do you know the way to San Jose?” She almost sang it.
“You shouldn’t be here all by yourself.”
He came up to her. Melody focused on his eyes, but with her peripheral vision she could see Slick come out of the trees. She stepped close to the guard and launched into a confusing story about where she had been and where she was going, speaking loudly so that the man wouldn’t hear any noise inadvertently made by Slick.
Slick was just a couple of steps away when the guard sensed something and spun around, his right hand reaching for his gun. Melody grabbed his arm and pulled on it with all her weight. Slick hit him on the head with his pistol. The man went down in a heap. Slick pulled the gun out of his shoulder holster. The man moaned.
“He’s just stunned. Put this in his mouth.”
He handed Melody a handkerchief. She stuffed it into the mouth of the semi-conscious man. Slick produced a roll of tape. She securely taped the guard’s mouth shut with pieces of tape handed to her by Slick, making sure he wouldn’t be able to loosen the tape by moving his jaw.
Slick taped the man’s arms behind him and then taped his legs together. He picked him up by the shoulders; Melody grabbed his feet. They dragged him into the trees and dumped him in the fetal position. He wouldn’t be seen from the building. Slick handed the guard’s gun to Melody.
“You can cover me with this.”
The gun was similar to Slick’s. Melody checked to make sure it was ready to fire. Slick took a look around; nobody else was in sight outside. He walked toward the windows, bending over so that he wouldn’t be seen from inside. He peeked through the windows from several angles and then jogged back to Melody, still keeping his body low.
“No sign of Drake. Looks like business as usual. I saw Casey; he’s doing most of the talking. There are several men in uniform, probably staff to the Chairman. I’ll bet they’re armed.”
Melody said, “We need to get inside. The door on this side is adjacent to the room they’re in. Too close to them, especially if Drake’s not there. The building has several floors. If we go around to the right up the hill, maybe there’s a door to the floor above them. I’d rather be above them than below them.”