The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  Before them, in the distance, Ellen could see a mountain range. “Robbie, we’re too low.”

  “I know what I’m doing.” He directed his voice into the radio. “Frank, we may need a ride. I have to take care of this mess then I have to land.” Controlling the stick for a moment with his leg, Robbie reached overhead, flipped a few switches, then after returning to the stick, drastically turned the chopper left in avoidance of the spray of machine gun fire that flew their way.

  “Grenade!” Frank blasted out in his charging run toward Hal. “Heads up!” In a hunch, yet at full speed, Frank eyed the grenade that had rolled into the trench. Making his way to where they had dug a lower level trench, Frank whisked up a sandbag from the top, dropped it on the grenade, and lunged forward into the ditch with Hal just as the explosion rocked the ground.

  It rained sand and debris along with Society soldier body parts.

  Uncovering his head, Frank lifted his body some. “You OK?”

  Muffled from beneath his brother’s flesh, Hal responded. “I’m . . .” he coughed. “Fine.”

  “There can’t be many more.” Frank caught his breath.

  Hal sat up. “You don’t . . . shit. Grenade.” On his warning, he reached for Frank, tugged him back down, and huddled as they waited until the explosion rang out.

  Coughing, Frank ran his hand over his head, clearing the dirt. “Good thing we dug this lower level.”

  “Good thing.”

  “You were saying?” Frank questioned.

  “I was merely asking if you really thought there were that many more.”

  Scooting over Hal, Frank grabbed the periscope and brought it up. He glared through then looked at Hal with a smile. “Not many more.” He watched Hal take the radio. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking on our brother.”

  ^^^^

  “Avoiding fire.” Robbie responded to Hal’s question.

  “Robbie,” Ellen whispered out.

  “But right now, Hal,” Robbie continued.

  “Robbie!” Ellen’s voice shook as she pushed herself further back in her seat.

  “I’m ending this,” Robbie said.

  “Oh God.” Ellen held on as she watched the side of a huge cliff come closer into view.

  “Hold on.” Robbie picked up speed.

  “We’re gonna crash.”

  “I know what I’m doing. I saw this in a movie once.”

  “This isn’t . . .” Ellen closed her eyes. “. . . a movie.” She didn’t want to see it coming. With her hands to her ears, she blocked out the sounds of the bullets that repeatedly seared into their chopper.

  “Open your eyes. You don’t want to miss this!”

  Why she did it, Ellen didn’t know, but the second she opened her eyes, she screamed. The solid rock side of the cliff was so close to her. They were like a bug heading into a windshield. Just as she accepted her pending death, with lightening speed, Robbie lifted the helicopter, leaving the pursuing Society chopper no choice but to plow into the cliff they missed by a whisper.

  Robbie shrieked in excitement. “Did I tell you I knew what I was doing or . . .” His words were cut short by the bullet that bounced off the windshield from the second head-on Society chopper. “Fuck.” He tilted the bird and as he did, smoke from his own chopper flooded around him. “This isn’t gonna work. I’m gonna have to find a place to land.”

  “Where’s the Society?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t worry about that now.” Robbie tried to listen for sounds of the other chopper. He glanced at the helicopter radar screen and saw nothing. “Shit. We’re flying blind.”

  Ellen looked through the windshield into nothing but smoke. “No kidding.”

  “This should clear us.” Lowering down, Robbie turned the chopper. Slowly he watched the smoke move from his vision. “See, I told you.”

  The smoke cleared. Ellen screamed. The second Society chopper was right before them.

  “Shit,” Robbie said, dodging a set of bullets that flew their way. “If I can lock them in . . .’ Robbie’s thumb held tight to the button on the stick. “I can take them out with a missile.”

  “If you can get them to stop . . .”

  Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.

  Ellen looked down to her watch. “Oh my God. Time’s up.”

  The shooting from the Society stopped.

  Ellen squealed with joy. “Time’s up. Time’s up. They stopped shooting. Game’s over.”

  His eyes glued out the windshield to the Society chopper in plain view, Robbie grinned, depressed the firing button with his thumb, released the missile at close range, and veered off the helicopter a second before he blew the last Society chopper from the sky.

  “Robbie?” Ellen questioned.

  Robbie shrugged then smiled. “Guess my watch was slow.” He winked. “Now . . . Game over.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  There were eight dead soldiers, six of them had their necks snapped with precision, the last two had met their demise at the end of a knife point. He went for the throat, a typical Slagel trademark. It was the trail Steward Lange thought would lead them to Johnny. Jess had to admit he was quite impressed by the fact that Johnny not only made an attempt to leave the Society, but he eliminated any resistance that got in his way.

  The trail turned up one empty Jeep, four more dead soldiers, and a missing truck all too far a distance from Quantico to be pursuing in the midst of what was going on.

  Steward felt defeated and he showed it when he returned to Quantico.

  “Anything?” Jess asked him when he walked into the interim room.

  “Nothing.” Steward’s voice was raspy. “I need . . .” he rubbed his eyes. “I need you to issue a search party immediately.”

  “Are we ordering them to bring him in or to kill . . .?”

  “No,” Steward stopped that sentiment immediately. “No. We’ll let George handle this when he gets back.”

  “Are we going to inform him beforehand?” Jess questioned.

  “No.” Steward slumped down to a chair. “I’ll deal with the repercussions of that. Let’s see if we can find Johnny first.”

  Jess picked up the phone. “I’ll get a team right on it. Starting point?”

  “We picked up clear tracks that went southwest.”

  Jess hesitated his dialing. “Southwest?”

  “Yes. We followed the tire tracks of the truck in a clear direction. I think he’s taking a southwest route, then head towards Beginnings.”

  “Beginnings?” Jess nearly laughed. “That’s absurd. He knows he can’t go back to Beginnings. He knows that.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He has amnesia. He’s a scared young boy heading home. Make that call.” Steward instructed as he stood.

  Jess nodded, but to him it didn’t add up. Johnny killed like a well-trained Slagel, yet he left a clear path to his direction. It was obvious Johnny remembered what his father had taught him, and in knowing that, Jess figured Johnny wouldn’t have pulled off the escape without a laid out plan. What exactly that plan was and where that plan would take him, Jess was lost.

  “Oh, Boyens.” Steward paused in his exit. “I’m heading down to see Sgt. Conners. Find me if you hear anything. Hey, maybe we might even hear from Johnny himself.”

  Once again, Jess paused in his dialing. With the phone to his ear, he looked inquisitively at Steward. “How?”

  “Aside from taking all his clothes, he made it a point to steal a non-issued working mobile.”

  “You’re kidding?” Jess chuckled. “He took a phone? Who’s he gonna call?”

  ^^^^

  The final shot of the battle rang out and the young Society soldier, arms outward, flew back ten feet from the direct hit he received from Frank. No sooner did Frank lower his arm than he raised up his hand with the radio. “Robbie, come in. All clear. Where are you?”

  The hiss of static blocked out the first portion of what Robbie said, but the rest came through, includ
ing his concern. “I’m tying right now to make a landing, Frank. I’m looking for an area. We sustained damage.”

  “You have to repeat where you are. Hal and I will be there. Landmarks?”

  “We’re just passed over . . . fuck.”

  “What?” Frank questioned.

  “Shit, Frank. We’re going down,” Robbie spoke with desperation.

  “Robbie?” Frank’s eyes widened and with a snap of his fingers, swung a view to the truck. “Robbie!”

  The sound of the fluttering motor carried with Robbie’s voice, “Frank, I can’t control her. We’re going down. I repeat we’re going down.”

  Frank moved in circles as he ran. Looking to the sky, he said, “I can’t see you! Landmark.”

  Hal held up the binoculars. “We’re at a low point. I can’t even hear them.”

  “Robbie!” Frank called out then froze when Ellen’s voice came through.

  “Frank. Frank. Help!” Ellen cried.

  The engines sounds stopped. There was quiet.

  “The engine’s gone,” Robbie stated with an eerie calm.

  “Ellen!” Frank raged at the same time as Hal to the truck. “El!”

  Through heavy breaths, with her voice quivering, the only tell tale sign of what was happening, Ellen spoke. “I love you, Frank.”

  “Ellen!” Frank cried out.

  Static.

  ^^^^

  Every ounce of Elliott tensed up and his body actually shook, “No. No!”

  “Jesus Christ.” Joe flew to the control board. “Pin point. Someone get me a location,” he ordered. “Where did they go down?”

  Danny Hoi clicked upon the control board keyboard. “Last location was about . . .” He stopped speaking when he heard the heartfelt, desperate arguing of Frank and Hal coming through the monitoring system they had.

  Joe stared at the board. “Where, Danny, where?’

  “Ten miles north of the Mormon Mountain Range,” Danny answered.

  “Oh my God, that’s a hundred miles from them. They’ll never find them.” Just as Joe said that, he looked down at the radio Danny handed him.

  “Time is up, Joe,” Danny said. “Talk to your sons.”

  Grabbing the radio, Joe turned to Elliott. “Elliott, start a call out. Scan every frequency. Try to get a hold of that chopper radio.” He brought the radio to his mouth. “Frank. Frank, come in.”

  Elliott, working with Mark, continuously called out. “Eagle One, this is Sgt. Ryder. Do you read me? Repeat, do you read me?”

  “Dad?” Frank responded. “Dad, we lost Robbie and Ellen. Oh my God, they went down.”

  “I know, Frank, calm down,” Joe stated. “Head south. We have them pinpointed.”

  Danny interjected, “Tell them I did not pick up any explosion. That’s a good sign.”

  “Frank, listen to me,” Joe spoke. “We did not pick up any static or interference which was consistent with the last two choppers that went down. That is a good sign.”

  “Where are they?” Frank asked. “Just tell me where they are.”

  “We’re pulling you guys up now and we’ll give you directions.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Frank’s voice was more hopeless than anyone had heard it.

  “No apologies, Frank. We’ll get them. We’ll get them.” Joe pulled up the information and directions, then began to give it to Frank.

  “Next,” Elliott instructed with a rush. “Eagle One, this is Sgt. Ryder. Do you read me? I repeat. Do you read me? Eagle One this is . . .”

  With a saddened excitement and partially breaking up, Ellen’s voice seeped through. “Elliott. Elliott.”

  “Ellen.” Elliott smiled. “Ellen are you all right?”

  “We’re fine. I think. A little hurt. It’s . . . hard . . . Robbie.”

  Elliott shook his head confused trying to decode the broken message. “Repeat.”

  Robbie’s voice came through. “Elliott.”

  All activity in the room stopped and there was quiet.

  Joe caught his breath. “I’m giving you to Danny. Frank, we got them. They’re fine.” He rushed over to the radio that Elliott held and immediately took it. “Robbie.”

  “Dad,” Robbie spoke with relief. “Dad we’re . . .”

  “Help is on the way, son. Just hang tight.”

  “Dad . . . can’t stay. Have to . . .”

  “Robbie?” Joe called out.

  The sound of a frightened Ellen screaming, ‘Robbie!’ carried through the radio.

  Near panicked, Joe turned up the volume. “Robbie, answer me!”

  “Dad.” Robbie’s voice crackled with the radio. “There’s some . . .” Robbie’s tone went down an entire octave as he whispered, “Oh shit.”

  “Robbie.” Joe depressed the button. “Robbie.”

  A constant ‘clicking’ was the only sound heard.

  “Robbie!” Joe called stronger. “Robbie!”

  Silence.

  ^^^^

  The ringing quiet, filed with his concern, was so loud, it actually hurt Dean’s ears. He needed something to carry him over the course of the next few hours, something to take away the worry, the quiet, and he found it in Ellen’s voice.

  “Isn’t she cute, Dean?” Ellen held a baby Majestic before the video camera. “What should we call her?”

  “How about lab study 4327-G,” Dean from the camera responded.

  “Don’t be silly. She needs a name.’

  Sitting in a chair, Dean watched the tape. His elbows dug hard into his thoughts as his prayer folded hands covered his nose. As he listened he wished he would have zoomed in more. How badly he wanted to see Ellen’s face.

  ‘Dean, come on. She needs a name.”

  Joe heard it and he knew there had to be a logical explanation, but the sound of his daughter’s voice sent him flying into the lab. He stopped the second he stepped inside and saw the screen with Ellen’s face.

  Dean’s pressed ‘pause’, freeze framing the shot on Ellen’s face. Running his fingers through his hair in a nervous manner, Dean stood up. “Joe, don’t . . .”

  “No.” Joe held up his hand, his eyes still locked on the screen. “Nothing yet. We . . . we are confident, Dean, really confident.”

  “But you said the last transmission from them . . .”

  “I know what I said.” Joe walked further in the room. “And I know what I feel. They were alive after that chopper went down and I firmly believe when Frank and Hal get there, they’ll be fine.”

  ,Dean sat Slowly back down into his chair. “I can’t take this.”

  “Me either.” Joe pulled up a chair next to Dean. “I see you found something to take your mind off of the waiting.”

  A sad chuckle came from Dean. “I don’t think anything can do that.”

  “No. No, you’re right.” Joe sat down. “I have a confession to make, Dean.”

  “What’s that?” Dean looked at Joe.

  Patting his chest pocket, Joe gave a humble look. “I’ve been bad. I’ve smoked all day. Now I know you don’t want me to get treatments if I was smoking three days before hand. So, I promise, if you just give me today and let me smoke away, I promise I won’t fold so easily after we find . . .” Joe stopped talking when Dean turned his head. “Dean?”

  Dean stood up with an exhale.

  “Dean?” Joe stood as well. “I hope you aren’t mad. But Christ, you didn’t tell me when my next treatment was, so how the hell was I supposed to know. OK, all right, I should have been . . .” He swore his heart dropped when he heard another exhale. “Dean? What is it?”

  Dean shook his head, then finally turned around and faced Joe. “Smoke, Joe. Don’t worry about me, OK? We’ll just deal with the treatment schedule at another time.”

  “Smoke?” Joe chuckled. “You’re telling me to smoke? Good, I won’t argue. So I’m taking it we’ll wait a few more days? That won’t mess things up will it?”

  Dean didn’t answer.

  Dean’s silence w
as a residual warning sound to Joe. “Dean? For four days you’ve avoided this subject. Be straight with me. What’s going on?”

  His eyes glanced away, then by the time Dean returned to Joe, he couldn’t look at him. “Joe, could we just talk about this at a later . . .”

  “No.” Joe grabbed his arm as Dean tried to walk by him. “We’ll talk now. What the hell is going on?”

  Eyes in a dead stare with Joe’s, Dean swallowed. “I’d really rather . . .”

  “Dean.”

  “Fine.” Dean pulled away from Joe, then had to turn away again. He walked to the counter and faced the wall.

  “You can’t look at me. My God . . .”

  “It’s not . . .” Dean held a raised hand as he mustered the courage to turn back around. “It’s not what . . . it’s just that I’m not sure we’re heading in the right direction with the treatments, that’s all.”

  “OK. What direction will we head?”

  “Joe . . .”

  “Dean.” Joe was firm and he walked closer. “What is going on?”

  Dean took a deep breath in right before his painful blink. “The scan . . . the scan showed that . . . Joe, when we removed the lesions from the lungs, I thought, I was sure we got it all, you know. And with the treatments.” Dean whistled. “I thought you’d prevail.”

  “We didn’t get it all.”

  “Oh, no, we got it all.” Emotionally, Dean snickered. “It just came back.”

  “That fast?” Joe asked astonished. “It can’t be. The treatments . . .”

  “The treatments didn’t stop it.”

  “The lungs again?”

  Tightly closed lipped, Dean nodded. “And . . .”

  “And?”

  “And we found indications that the disease may have spread to . . . let’s say it spread further than I would have thought.”

  Joe lost all breath. He actually spun in his exhale of what he had just heard.

  Dean walked to him. “I am not sure but it appears to be a highly degenerative and progressive . . .”

  “Enough.” Joe held up a hand, took a moment of thought, and then faced Dean. After a nod, and what he believed was a clear mind, he spoke rationally. “So what now? What do we do now? Do we operate? Change treatments, what?’