THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  Keene decided right away he wasn’t going to tell this man the truth. “Me and my friend were just taking a walk and these guards stopped and jumped us. Guess they just wanted to beat up on some Americans. But my friend got popped in the back of the head with a rifle. He’s hurt. I need to go look at him.”

  The older man looked at Keene, then to the front of the military truck, then back to Keene. “You say they jumped you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What for? What were y’all doing out walking after curfew?”

  The last thing Keene wanted right now was to get into a debate with a stranger. “What are you doing out driving after curfew?”

  The older man crinkled his nose. “Good point.” Then, “Where’s your friend?”

  Keene lowered his arms, and the SKS, and started walking back toward the front of the military truck. “This way.”

  Boz was right where Keene had left him a few moments ago. Still facedown. Still unconscious. He rolled him over and checked to make sure Boz was still breathing. He was, and that was good, but Keene knew he needed to get Boz out of there. And quick. Someone else could come by at any second and then this party was going to get out of hand. He looked over his shoulder to the older man. “Can you help me? Get his feet. I’ll get his arms.”

  The older man just looked at him. “And what do you suppose we do with him?”

  Again, Keene ran through his options. One, he could take the military truck and leave the guards. There wasn’t any place to hide their bodies, so he’d just have to leave them in the road. And that was going to have to be the case, regardless of whatever else he did. Two, he could knock the older man out and take his truck. But that wasn’t really something he wanted to do. The older man had stopped and offered to help. Three, he could ask his new friend to take him and Boz somewhere, till he could get Boz awake and ready to move. He hated to involve this poor guy, but it looked like he didn’t have a choice at the moment.

  The older man walked around the front of the door and examined the guards’ bodies. “You do this?”

  Keene was still checking Boz for other broken bones or fractures from falling hard to the pavement. “Yes, sir. I guess I did.”

  “Hmmm…Who did you say you were, again?”

  Keene didn’t make eye contact with the man. “I didn’t.”

  The older man leaned down to where Keene was. He took off his jacket and undid the button on his shirtsleeve. He rolled it up, just past the elbow and showed it to Keene.

  Keene smiled at the older man’s tattoo. A sudden wave of relief swept over him.

  The old man looked at him. “Now, I’ve seen work like that before.” He pointed at the three downed guards. “But not in a long time. Not since I was back in BUDS.” He stuck his hand out to Keene. “Name’s Lynch. Gary.”

  Keene took the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Ranger.” Referring to Lynch’s tattoo.

  “Tell you what,” Lynch said. “My place is about a mile and a half back that way.” He pointed back up the overpass. “Your friend here is going to need a bed and that head cleaned up. I’ll take you back to my place. Let’s go.”

  “What about them?” Keene pointed to the guards.

  “Agh, let ’em be. This neighborhood? They get jumped all the time around here. The main station will send around some more patrols. But that’s about it. There’s still a bunch of us here who haven’t quite given in to their ways yet.”

  Keene picked Boz up from his arms, while Lynch grabbed his legs.

  “We’ll put him in the bed. You can ride back there with him,” Lynch said. “Like I said, I just live about a mile and a half back up the road.”

  “Thank, you, Mr. Lynch.”

  Lynch nodded and got back into the cab of the truck. Keene rapped his knuckles on the top of the cab when he was all set in the back. Lynch did a quick U-turn and headed back up the hill.

  Lynch was true to his promise. A couple of minutes later the truck was pulling into a short drive of a one-story, brick ranch-style home. It had a small porch with two rocking chairs on it, and a chain-link fence that started out from the side of the house and continued around back. Keene could hear the barking of the dog as they pulled in the drive.

  Lynch opened the door to the house and came back around and helped Keene get Boz out of the truck and inside. Lynch led as they carried Boz down the hall to a spare bedroom. He told Keene to put Boz in bed while he went down the hall for medical supplies. He returned a few minutes later with some sterile gauze, antiseptic ointment, and some bandages. Keene removed the lampshade on the bedside lamp and held the bare lamp over Boz’s head in order to get a better look at the wound.

  “How is it?” Lynch asked.

  “I’ve seen worse,” Keene said. “Heck, I’ve had worse!” He and Lynch both laughed. “He’ll be all right. Gonna have one mother of a headache, but he’ll be all right.”

  Keene stood up and offered his hand to Lynch. “Thank you, Mr. Lynch. For everything. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to let him rest. When he gets up, we’ll get out of your hair. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

  Lynch showed Keene back out into the living room. “You two stay long as you need. No one here but me. And I don’t get many visitors. My son’s gone across the mountains. My daughter already lived in Virginia. And my wife died two years ago, next month.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. Took me awhile to adjust, but I’m getting on just fine now.” Lynch pointed to one of the recliner chairs. “Take a seat, son. You hungry?”

  Keene realized right then that he still hadn’t eaten anything. By all accounts, he should be so weak that he shouldn’t be able to stand on his own two feet. Let alone take out a small band of armed guards on an overpass. He closed his eyes and said quietly, “Thank You, Lord.”

  “How’s that?” Lynch asked.

  Keene opened his eyes. “Oh…nothing. Yes, sir. To be honest, I’m starving. Anything would be fine.”

  “You like chili?”

  “Love chili, sir.”

  “Well, I happen to make the worst chili you’ll probably ever eat. But I got a whole pot of it left over from yesterday. You want some?”

  Keene laughed. “Yes, sir. That’d be fine.”

  Lynch fixed Keene a big bowl of chili, topped with cheddar cheese and complete with a sleeve of saltines. Keene dove in as soon as Lynch set it down. And Lynch was right—it was probably the worst chili Keene had ever eaten. But he was starving and he downed the whole bowl.

  When he was finished, he placed the bowl in the sink and refilled his water. He realized that, while he and Lynch had been carrying on for over an hour now, he had never told Lynch his name. And Lynch hadn’t asked. Strange, he thought. But okay. He came back into the living room where Lynch was sitting in one of the recliners. He sat down in the other one.

  Keene shifted in his chair to look at Lynch. “I never told you my name.”

  “I know who you are.”

  Keene hesitated. Did he tell Lynch a fake name back at the overpass? He couldn’t remember; everything had happened so quickly. “You do?”

  “Yep.”

  “How’s that?”

  Lynch tipped his ball cap back and looked up at Keene. “Son, everyone who’s ever worn a uniform knows who you are. And most everyone who hasn’t. Especially after what you did up in Massena.”

  Keene was speechless. He’d been out of circulation for so long now, he realized he really didn’t know what was going on around the country, aside from what little the Prophet had told him. He realized that he had put Mr. Lynch in a precarious position and that he needed to get himself and Boz out of there as quickly as he could.

  “Mr. Lynch, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get involved in this. We’ll be gone soon as my friend wakes up.”

  Lynch frowned and waved him off. “Sit down, son. Rest while you can. You haven’t put me in the middle of anything. You didn’t force m
e to do anything I didn’t want to do. Besides, it was kind of exciting. I don’t get much excitement these days.”

  Keene sat down as he was told. “I don’t get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “You said your kids are both across the mountains. Safe. Why aren’t you there with them? You’re a former ranger. It’s not like you couldn’t have found a way to get back. Why would you stay here? I mean, living like this? Their rules and everything.”

  Lynch seemed to think about that for a few seconds. Finally he said, “Well, it’s not because I’ve lost my patriotism. I love this country. Always have. It’s why I became a ranger. My kids and I don’t really see eye to eye, since their mom died. They think I betrayed her.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Helen—that’s my wife—got real sick. Doctors said by the time we found out, she only had a couple months to live. Helen didn’t want to spend those couple months in the hospital, hooked up to machines and doped up on medication. She wanted to be home.”

  “And you did what she asked.”

  Lynch nodded. “And they think I just let her die. Didn’t try to save her.” Then, “You believe in God, Mr. Keene?”

  Keene laughed to himself. “I’ve recently reconsidered my position on Him.”

  “You asked me why I’m still here.”

  Keene nodded.

  “Because this might be where I live, but it ain’t my home. Doesn’t make much difference to me, either way, who says they’re in charge.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  Lynch reached across the chair to the end table. He opened the drawer and pulled out a worn, leather-bound Bible. “I gave my life to Christ ten years ago. Helen is responsible for that. She started going to church. Next thing I knew, I was getting dragged alongside her. Didn’t take long after that, I found myself talking with one of the pastors there, asking all sorts of questions I thought I knew the answers to. Long story short, God got ahold of me. I gave my life to Christ and haven’t looked back since. I stay here because Helen is buried a few blocks from here. I like to go there and sit and pray. My home is with God. And whenever He decides to call me back there, I’m ready to go. Until then, I’m going to stay right here.”

  Keene nodded again. “I understand. I lost a wife, too.”

  “And if we don’t get out of here, we may both be seeing her again soon.”

  Both Keene and Lynch turned around to see Boz standing in the hall. Keene shot up out of the chair and went to his friend. “Hey, man. You okay? How you feeling?”

  “Like I got hit in the back of the head with an SKS-56,” Boz said. “Where are we?”

  Keene introduced Boz to Mr. Lynch and caught him up on the last couple of hours. Boz thanked Lynch for all his help and offered to return the favor however he could.

  “You two just get to where you need to go safely,” Lynch said. “And just keep those of us who are still here in your prayers.”

  “That I can do,” Boz said.

  “You okay to move?” Keene asked.

  “I’ll be fine. Some Advil or something would be great.”

  Lynch went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of ibuprofen and water. He tossed them to Boz and said, “You can keep these. Got another bottle in there.” Then he tossed a set of keys to Keene. “Those are for the truck. Take it. You two don’t need to be on foot.”

  “I’ve got a car waiting for us on Briley Parkway,” Boz said. “Besides, if we got stopped, they’d run the tags and it would come back to you. Really, I’m fine. We can walk it.”

  Keene tossed the keys back to Lynch. “He’s right. We can’t ask you to do any more.”

  Lynch nodded. “You two be careful. I’ll make sure I say a prayer for you tonight.”

  “We’d appreciate that,” Boz said.

  Keene and Boz headed back out into the night. They had already lost almost three hours. They couldn’t afford to lose any more if they had any shot at getting back to the mountain range by morning. Lynch had drawn them a crude map of the neighborhood where they were and a shortcut to get back to where Boz had stashed the car. If they moved quickly, they could be there in twenty minutes.

  Sticking to Lynch’s map, the rest of the trip was quiet and easy. The walk was short, but it consisted of a lot of up and down hills, in and out of cul-de-sacs, and skirting property fences. Finally, they came through a small row of trees. Briley Parkway stood in front of them. On the other side of the road, International Plaza. And on the other side of that, the Nashville Airport. A short way down that road, Boz said, was a business park. That’s where the car was.

  Keene frowned at him. “You parked next to the airport? That place is going to be crawling with guards.”

  “Belly of the beast, kid. They’d never expect it.”

  By this time of night, traffic on Briley was almost nonexistent. But they waited by the tree line for a few minutes anyway, trying to listen for cars coming from either direction. It seemed quiet in both directions. Finally, they agreed to move. Keene was the first over the guardrail. Boz followed shortly behind. In just a few seconds, they were across the road and out of sight, behind the first office building of the business park.

  “How much farther?” Keene asked.

  “Back behind that building.” Boz pointed to one of the tallest structures in the park.

  They made their way through the parking lots of the buildings until Boz grabbed Keene’s arm to hold him up. “Around there,” he said.

  Keene was in the lead and moving quickly when he stopped short all of a sudden. Boz literally ran into the back of him. “What’s up? Why the stop?”

  Keene didn’t speak but held up a balled fist—the universal hold command. He backed away from the corner of the building and motioned for Boz to follow.

  They retreated back to the front of the building before Boz spoke. “What’s up?”

  “Company.” Keene pointed back over his shoulder.

  “CG?”

  “What? Who?”

  “CG,” Boz said. “Chinese guards.”

  Keene nodded the affirmative.

  “At this time of night?”

  Keene pulled up short. “I don’t know. You tell me. You leave anything in that car that would point to you or me?”

  Boz just looked at him. “Really?”

  Keene realized it was a stupid question. Boz was a spook. Or had been. Either way, not even an amateur would make that mistake. “Right. Sorry.”

  Boz moved around Keene to take the front. “Let me look when we get to the other side.”

  They finished making their way around to the south side of the building this time. Boz gently eased his head around the corner to take a peek. He pulled his head back and motioned for Keene to follow.

  “That’s not our car,” Boz said when they were back around front.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. That’s not our car.” Boz gave a frustrated look. “The one behind it, two rows back, is ours.”

  “Then what gives?”

  “Did I get here before you?” Boz said. “I don’t know. Let’s go take another look.”

  Keene grabbed Boz by the arm to stop him. He had a different idea. “How’s your head?” He gave Boz a mischievous look.

  “It hurts,” Boz said dryly.

  “Good. That’ll make it believable.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I only saw two. And they’re in a regular patrol car, not a military truck. There’s a good cover of trees along the side of that lot. You straggle out there, like you’re hurt, and distract them. I’ll do the rest.”

  “Are you trying to leave a trail of bodies in our wake?”

  “I didn’t say I was going to kill them. Just incapacitate them. Besides, you said so yourself. We need to move. We can’t be waiting them out. We don’t even know what they’re doing back there. Or if more are coming.”

  Boz gave a short sigh and nodded. “Okay. I’ll give
you two minutes to get in place. Then I’m going out.”

  “Roger that.” Keene set his backpack down on the sidewalk. “We’ll come back for it.”

  Boz nodded and set his down, too. Keene started counting off the seconds in his head as he made a long sweeping arc around the front parking lot to the small tree line that separated the back parking lot from the next business over. He had just gotten in place when he saw Boz come around the corner, stumbling and holding his head.

  Boz was good, Keene had to admit. For a moment, even he forgot that Boz was only a distraction. The man really looked like he was badly injured. He thought about Boz’s head and realized he probably wasn’t acting.

  It only took a couple of seconds before Boz had the guards’ attention. They turned almost immediately when Boz appeared from the corner of the building. Both were shouting something to Boz and both had their hands out, motioning for him to stop. But Boz just kept limping toward them.

  Both guards left the side of the car now. That was the opening Keene was waiting for. With their backs to him, he darted out from behind the trees and covered the twenty-yard span in a matter of seconds. The guards didn’t even hear him coming up behind.

  He and Boz got to the guards at the same time. Boz, who had been limping and holding his head, suddenly switched gears and lunged out at the guard to Keene’s left. Keene realized that Boz was covered, so he focused on the guard on his right. Each man dispatched his guard in a matter of seconds, having made hardly a sound. They picked up the fallen guards and dragged them back to the car they had been standing by. Keene reached into his back pocket and produced a roll of duct tape—something he had borrowed from the bed of Lynch’s truck. He taped the guards’ mouths and wrists and then pushed them under the car. They would wake up in a few hours with a few aches and bruises, but nothing worse.

  Boz pulled the car around front and picked up Keene, who had gone back to retrieve the backpacks. Keene jumped in as Boz hit the gas.

  “Well, that was fun.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had about all the fun I care to for the rest of this trip,” Boz said. “Let’s pray we don’t get stopped the rest of the way.”