THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  He had almost completely drifted off when he heard the soft knocking on the door. Who in the world could it be? He certainly wasn’t expecting someone. No one he knew, knew where he was. Then it hit him. It must be the two agents. He didn’t know how they tracked him down, but they were cut from the same cloth as he was. He supposed, if he were them, he could’ve found himself by now. He got out of the bed and walked to the door. He decided that, if they were going to roust him out of bed, he was going to at least give them some grief. He opened the door and turned back into the room without even looking at them. “Took you long enough,” he said, walking back to the bed. “I could have found me three hours ago.”

  He was caught off guard when he felt the hand push him, face-first, down into the bed. He rolled over to say something but stopped short. The words got caught in his throat as he stared up into the face of the blond woman from the restaurant, who was holding a Walther PK380, and pointing it right at his head.

  “Who are you?” Peterson asked.

  “Funny,” she said. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Chinese–US Border

  It was just after six o’clock, and the sun was trying to lift itself up over the mountain range. Boz had been driving for the last couple of hours while Keene slept. Keene hadn’t realized it until after the episode in the parking lot on Briley Parkway, but the two altercations with the Chinese guards had left him completely drained. It had been quite awhile since he had had to expel that kind of energy. Those weeks in the Chinese prison camp had taken a toll on him.

  He knew Boz was injured and needed rest, too, so tired as he was, he’d insisted Boz take the first shift sleeping. He promised to stick to the route Boz had mapped out and assured his friend he would wake him before any trouble arose. Boz had reluctantly agreed to let Keene drive. Within ten minutes of being on the road, Boz was out.

  Keene had let him sleep for the next three hours while he maneuvered the route, which consisted of small stretches on Interstate 40 mixed with two-lane county roads. Finally, when they’d gone almost as far as Johnson City, Keene couldn’t hold out any longer. He woke Boz and changed places with him.

  Keene was completely out when he felt Boz nudging his arm. Everything in him wanted to ignore it. He could’ve slept for the next two days. But the tone that accompanied the nudge made him sit up straight.

  “Jon, wake up. Now.”

  He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he tried to focus. “What’s up? Trouble?”

  “Not yet, but probably.”

  Keene stared ahead and finally saw what Boz was talking about. They were nearing the border.

  “I was hoping we’d get here sooner,” Boz said. “Would have made this a little easier. Sun’s going to be up soon.”

  “How’s your head?”

  “It’s all right. Still tender. About an hour ago, I forgot about it and let my head fall back against the headrest. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up when I yelped.”

  Keene laughed a short laugh. “Bro, I was out! Would’ve taken a lot more than you crying like a girl to wake me up.”

  Boz shot him a sideways glance.

  “So what’s the plan?” Keene said.

  Boz shrugged. “Well, the plan was to park a half mile out, walk the rest of the way, quietly avoid the guards, and sneak through. The same way I got here. But now that the sun is coming up…”

  “Sounds like a good plan. What’s the problem?”

  Boz looked at him like he hadn’t heard a word Boz had just said.

  “Well, for starters, there are five CG back in Nashville who, by now, have probably run it up the chain that you and I were the ones who gave them their makeovers. Seeing as how this is the closest place for us to try and cross, I’m guessing there’s probably going to be about triple the number of guards that were there last night.”

  Keene thought about that. “You’re probably right. Still doesn’t change the fact that we need to get across.”

  Boz nodded. “So what do you want to do?”

  “Hey, this is your mission. I’m just the asset. You tell me.”

  “Asset?” Boz rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  Keene decided it was time to get serious. “Okay. Give me the recon. What do we know?”

  “The first thing is we need to get off this road. In about another two miles, we’re going to be sitting ducks with nowhere to go. I’ve got some topography maps in my bag. We’ll use those to see what’s the best way to approach the gate. After that, we’ll have about a five-mile hike. I have a car stashed. Let’s just hope it’s still there.”

  “Hope?”

  “Well, the CG aren’t supposed to cross the border for anything. The mountain range is ours. Part of the cease-fire agreement with Chin. But those woods are dense and thick and have nothing in them but wildlife for miles sometimes. The Chinese like American deer. So it’s not uncommon to hear about them leaving their posts and going hunting. And there are only so many roads that you can travel on in there. So if one of them happened upon the right road between yesterday and today…”

  “Then we’re going to have longer than a five-mile hike.”

  Boz didn’t reply but turned the car off the road onto a dirt road. Keene didn’t know if his friend knew where he was going, or if the road just looked like a good place to get off. Either way, their time in a car was over. At least for now. He hoped.

  The pale blue hovering over the mountaintops was beginning to give way to a thin line of pink. In another half hour, it would be fully daylight. And then they would be fully exposed.

  Boz stayed on the narrow dirt road for another three-quarters of a mile and then pulled over to the side. Nothing but trees and thick forest lined them on either side.

  Keene got out and looked around. “You know where we are?”

  “Nope. But I’m about to find out.”

  Boz grabbed his bag from the backseat, retrieved some loose papers, and laid them out on the hood. He clicked on his flashlight and studied the maps for a second.

  “Here.” He pointed with his finger. “We’re here. And the CG post is there.” He moved his finger across the page. “We need to cross here.” He looked up to the sky and then to his watch. “And we’ve got about a half hour to do it.”

  Keene looked down at the map to where Boz had pointed. “That’s almost two miles. With gear. And don’t forget the guards that are probably waiting for us—me.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re such a big deal.” Boz smiled. “Maybe if you’d been more careful a few months ago, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  Keene slung his pack over his shoulder. “Let’s move it, Chappy. Double time.”

  “Roger that.”

  The two took off through the trees, headed straight east. They tried to move as silently as they could, but with the pace they needed to keep—in order to try and beat the sun—they weren’t. Fortunately, no CG were anywhere to be found as they approached the border. However, that wouldn’t be the case for much longer.

  As they approached the clearing Boz had pointed out on the map, they could see the barricades set up less than a thousand yards ahead. The border crossing was situated in the middle of what used to be I-40 as it entered the man-made canyon that had been cut years ago for the interstate to pass through the mountains. On either side of the barricades a chain-link fence topped with razor wire ran as far as the eye could see north and south. On the other side of the razor wire stood jagged cliffs and nearly impenetrable, thick forest, filled with sudden drop-offs and chasms. Mother nature’s own barricade, which made this border crossing the only viable option for at least twenty miles in either direction.

  The sun was coming up fast now. They didn’t have much more time. Keene looked at Boz, who had hung his head and was shaking it back and forth.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was afraid of this.”

  “What?”

  “When I crossed here la
st night, there weren’t even one-third as many guards.” He pointed to the large military trucks and sandbag barricade stations that were set up every fifty feet or so. “And those weren’t here at all.”

  “They know we’re coming.”

  “Looks that way.”

  Keene shrugged. “Well, I’m flattered they think you and I need this much resistance.”

  “Yeah…,” Boz said slowly.

  Keene could almost see the wheels spinning in Boz’s head. “What?”

  “They have no idea that it’s just you and me. Far as they know, there’s an entire team here to extract you. And they’re prepared for it.”

  “And what better way to get by them,” Keene said, “than to give them what they’re expecting?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s great. But where are you going to get six more guys to go rush that barricade?”

  “Good point.”

  Keene thought for a moment. “I’ve got an idea.”

  He quickly relayed his plan. They would separate and try to draw a few guards into the woods where they were. They would disarm the guards and take them captive. From there, it was up to Boz to make the rest of the plan work.

  They skirted the tree line of the clearing until it brought them to within twenty yards of the post on the far north side. The scenario couldn’t have played out any more perfectly. Four guards stood post. Two were leaning against the chain-link fence, talking with each other. The other two were sitting down behind one of the sandbag barriers, checking their weapons. The closest guards from these four were more than a hundred yards farther to the south.

  Boz nodded to Keene, who had climbed up one of the bigger trees and was perched atop a long, thick overhanging branch. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

  Boz cupped his hands and pointed his head toward the four guards. “Hey!”

  Immediately, the four guards snapped to. One started barking orders to the other three, who immediately pulled their weapons up into firing position and started toward the tree line. The fourth guard, however, stayed put. And then he reached for his radio.

  “Someone didn’t tell that guy the plan,” Keene said nervously.

  Boz, who had taken up a position behind an adjacent tree, whispered back, “Remind me to dock his pay.”

  The three CG entered the tree line, sweeping their weapons back and forth, moving slowly. Keene had a good vantage from up in the tree, but Boz was completely blind. The good news was they were about to pass right under Keene. Keene had to time this perfectly, or else Boz would be left exposed.

  As the three guards short-stepped their way under the tree, Keene let out a low whistle. At the same time, he dropped from his perch. As he fell, he came down between two of the guards and scissor-kicked them. The blow knocked the guards in either direction; both lost their weapons.

  As Keene jumped from the branch, Boz darted out from behind the tree. The third guard was completely caught by the surprise of Keene falling from the sky. He had turned to look, just as his two comrades got knocked aside. That gave Boz the second he needed. He quickly moved behind the third guard, grabbed him under the chin from behind, placed his knee in the middle of the guard’s back, and snapped. From there, he moved to the second guard and took him out, as Keene lunged for the first guard and finished him off. All three guards lay motionless in the fallen leaves.

  “They dead?” Keene said, looking at the two guards Boz had dispatched.

  “Nope.” Boz pointed at them one at a time. “Sprained back, and choke hold. Yours?”

  “No. But he’s going to need a lot of physical therapy. When he wakes up. For the next twenty years.”

  “What now?”

  Suddenly sirens began ringing up and down the barricade.

  “Well, I’d say the plan just went out the window.”

  “I knew I should have let you take all three of these guys and go after that fourth guy.”

  “Wouldn’t have mattered,” Keene said. “Soon as you gave the call, he was on the radio.” He looked around at the guards. “Quick. Grab their weapons.”

  The two of them quickly took the guards’ NP-42 pistols and their SKS-56 rifles, along with the ammo they were carrying. They needed to move. In moments the entire area would be swarming with guards.

  “Follow me.”

  Keene took off running to the fence, where the three guards had come from. The fourth guard was fumbling to get his pistol out of his holster as soon as he saw Keene. Keene raised the NP-42 he’d taken from one of the guards and fired two short bursts, catching the guard right in the leg. The guard dropped instantly, screaming in pain. As Keene caught up to him, he swung a hard left hook at the guard’s head, knocking him out.

  A large military truck was stationed only yards away from the guards’ post. He hoped—no, prayed—the keys were in it.

  “This is crazy,” Boz called from behind.

  “Got a better idea?”

  “Nope. Just saying.”

  They reached the truck. Keene jumped into the passenger side. “You drive. I’m a better shot.”

  Boz didn’t argue.

  The keys were in the truck. Boz fired it up, pushed the clutch, and slammed the truck in gear. “There’s two ways to get on the other side of that barricade. Stop, shoot all the guards, and walk through; or drive right at it, shoot all the guards, and ram through with the truck.”

  Keene looked ahead at the scene unfolding before them. The sun had finally begun to crest over the mountain. “Well, seeing as how they’re all running this way, I’d say let’s stay in the truck and ram it.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Oh, and one more thing.” Keene looked up to the sky. “Please, God, help us get through this.”

  Boz pushed the clutch and shifted gears. “Amen!”

  The twenty or so guards who had been racing toward them all stopped and took a knee. At once they leveled their SKSs and opened fire. Bullets pelted the front of the truck as Boz barreled on toward the gate. Keene checked the magazine from the SKS he’d taken from the guard, slammed it home, and leaned out the window. He sprayed a wide arc of gunfire across the field in front of him. Most of the guards who had been shooting dove for cover. Others continued to fire.

  This time, Keene took aim through the red-dot sight and began to pick off the guards. And now that Boz had gotten the truck up to speed, and didn’t have to shift, he had his Kimber out the driver’s-side door, firing as well.

  They were coming up on the main gate, but the problem was they were coming at it from the side. No chance to ram it from this angle. Boz jerked the wheel and almost threw Keene out of the truck. Keene caught his balance and continued firing. “A little heads-up next time, huh?”

  “Sorry.”

  The truck was moving away from the barricade now, heading west, on the main road. Keene climbed back inside the truck. Behind them, guards were piling into the other four trucks. Within seconds, the guards were following behind.

  Keene moved the canvas separating the cab and the back of the truck and began to climb in the back. He wanted to start shooting from the rear. “Lord, could use some help here.” He’d no sooner moved the canvas when he realized his prayers had been answered. Lying in the back of the truck was a .50 caliber BMG, complete with nine-inch tripod.

  “Hey, Boz…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need you to buy us thirty seconds. And then turn this junk heap around and head straight for that gate.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Keene jumped in the back and grabbed the machine gun. He grabbed the chain of ammo and fed it into the gun. Next—in between trying to catch his balance from the truck rocking back and forth as Boz weaved to try to evade the guards’ bullets flying at them—he turned around, grabbed his knife from its sheath, and began to cut the canvas top covering the bed of the truck. Once that was done, he reached back, grabbed the .50 cal., and heaved it on top of the cab of the truck.
“Okay, turn it around.”

  “Hold on to what you got.” Boz slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel. The truck skidded as the rear end swung around. They were facing the guards head-on.

  Keene didn’t wait. He opened fire on the guards coming right at them. The machine gun ripped through the oncoming trucks. One by one, they lost control and either ran off the road or flipped over as their drivers had pulled too hard on the wheels trying to evade the deadly machine-gun rounds. Finally, all four guards’ trucks were out of commission. The only thing in their way now was the main gate, which still had a good number of guards.

  Boz was headed straight for the gate. Unlike the fence that ran from either side of it, it was made of eighteen-foot-tall chain-link fence with metal straps crisscrossing the chain-link for extra reinforcement. On either side of the gate itself stood two round, makeshift concrete towers—probably fifteen feet in diameter—that rose another ten feet above the gate and fence. Keene took aim right at the base of the left tower.

  Shards of concrete began to fly in all directions as Keene blasted the tower’s foundation. Every guard who had been kneeling or standing in front of the tower was getting peppered by the debris. They all began to scatter and take cover.

  The better news for Keene and Boz was the fact that the tower wasn’t that stable to begin with. So as Keene continued firing, the tower began to crumble and slide down off its foundation. In a matter of seconds, the whole thing was going to come crashing down. The bad news was it was going to do so right in front of the gate.

  Keene pounded on the cab of the truck. “You better punch it, Boz.”

  “Roger that!”

  Keene held on as Boz shifted the truck again. The truck lurched forward even faster. Keene changed his aim and began laying down a wide arc of gunfire again, on both sides of the gate. They were almost there.

  The tower continued to slide. The truck was less than twenty feet from the gate. If they didn’t reach it in the next couple of seconds, the tower would come crashing down right on top of them.