An Unlikely Hero (1)

by Tierney James

  “We’re back on line, but only limited. I can only open up the cameras in the lobby, the loading dock, and this hall. The others have been so scrambled I think they may have been destroyed for good.”

  “What’s that?” Essid said pointing at the screen. But he already knew.

  Chapter 27

  Learning to become invisible became second nature if you were a member of a Special Forces team living in the mountains of Afghanistan. Something like pebbles slipping could jerk a combat soldier to attention in a heartbeat. A shift in wind direction could help or kill you. It paid to absorb details of your surroundings. He learned to observe without moving anything but his hooded eyes. Chase often found himself pausing even before pulling out into traffic on the rather docile streets of Sacramento. He could sleep standing up and eat just about anything. Blending in became second nature for a number of years before he returned to the states.

  Assimilation into civil society where everyone knows your business and expects to participate in your life posed problems for the captain when returning from the war. Sometimes he had gone for days without saying a word due to the isolation of his outpost. Even his men rarely uttered a word, fearing that doing so might give the enemy a heads up advantage. Then there were times when he lived amongst a village, becoming one of them by adopting their customs and habits. A few tribal leaders thought of him as a brother giving him respect and further training to survive a common enemy, the Taliban. Sometimes a nod or the sharing of a cup of tea spoke more than a litany of promises and threats. After returning home, Chase often craved that solitude he experienced with his tribal family. He let Enigma fill in the holes of loneliness left by war and tragedy. Now someone else had fallen into his life that made him feel anxious. A new war began to stir deep inside him. What weapons did a soldier use against emotions he’d never felt before?

  He had watched anxiously as Tessa approached the guards at the gate. Second thoughts nearly caused him to run after her, knowing Essid’s men would be less than respectful. Focusing on the big picture kept his feet rooted out of sight. She put on quite a show, maybe too much of one. Even from where he hid, Chase could see that the guards assisted her inappropriately with their dirty hands. A sense of urgency drove him forward when she distracted them. He’d have to go in through the loading dock and make his way back to Tessa before any harm came to her. If America was producing women like Tessa Scott across the cities and countryside the world just might become a safer place to live. Although scared out of her wits most of the week, she never ceased to amaze him with her tenacity and ability to switch gears when the situation demanded change.

  A brilliant sunset began to form through the layers of smoke and ash drifting across the sky. Nothing like pollution to bring out a little beauty in nature he thought fleetingly as he pushed himself up against the corner of the building where the loading dock housed three eighteen wheeler trucks. Only one guard with a rifle stood watching the other men completing the transfer of Molybdenum 99 barrels to the cavernous storage facility. Other weapons leaned against the concrete wall. Some appeared to be AK-47s and didn’t look to be in the best of shape; more than a little dirty and banged up. He made a mental note to avoid those. After taking another quick glance Chase leaned on the exterior wall some three or four feet from the men offloading the small barrels. Chatter, an occasional laugh muffled by some solemn circumstance they probably didn’t grasp, lifted like the translucent smoke filtering the fading light of a red sky.

  The last yellow container passed through the double doors as Chase eased his body from the corner of the building and carefully lifted one of the automatic rifles propped precariously against the wall.

  Stepping back, he quickly checked to see if the weapon was loaded. It was. He heard their heavy, clumsy steps of indifference echo off the corrugated metal that lined the ceiling of the loading dock. His thoughts raced to Tessa. Too much time had passed.

  As in times of battle, things either sped up or went into slow motion mode. He preferred fast. The smell of gunpowder filled his nostrils even before the first round left the chamber. The rat-a-tat-tat of a killing machine silenced any second guesses, knowing Tessa faced terrible danger alone. With an aggressive lunge, Chase appeared before the unsuspecting soldiers of terrorism, pulling the trigger to spray rapid death into their chests. The five unarmed men fell with surprised chokes of pain. Blood pooled so quickly that Chase never noticed the splatter of body tissue dripping from the concrete wall. He stormed quickly, seeing that the sixth man with a gun stood frozen behind a John Deere bobcat. Feeling the rifle jam, Chase swung the rifle around to use as a club. The surprise confrontation gave Chase the split second he needed to rush him. Just as the sixth man stepped out and lowered his weapon, Chase yelled like a banshee, swinging the butt of his rifle against the man’s weapon as it began to discharge. Startled the man dropped his gun and staggered backwards only to have Chase jump him with his full weight, slamming him to the ground. Chase felt the air gush from the man’s lungs just before he rammed a fist into his Adam’s apple. The death gurgle began as Chase bounded to his feet then secured two more working AKs before entering the storage area.

  Quickly moving through the holding area, he unconsciously swept the space for other men with lethal force before slipping through double doors that led into several rooms. Finally he found a way into a long corridor. Hearing whispers and feet trying to make quiet forced Chase into a small lobby off the main corridor where a fountain bubbled peacefully. Surrounded by tropical plants and deep blue cushioned stools he guessed it was a place to catch up on emails or read a book. A place like Global Navigation probably tucked several more of these respite areas along the corridor to offer a Zen-like feeling to their employees. But for Chase he plastered his back against the granite wall, pulling his weapon tight to his chest. Chase readied to take out the next person who dared interfere with his rescue of Tessa.

  When he knew they were but a breath away he swung out with his rifle leveled, only to see Vernon and Tessa collide into each other trying to escape what they thought might be one of Essid’s men. Lowering his weapon, he watched Tessa stop cringing and spring toward him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to extend his right arm and pull her body into his. He felt her arms wrap around him and squeeze. She looked up at him with a conquering smile.

  “You’re safe! I worried.” Tessa realized she’d thrown herself at her hero and shyly took a step back. “The isotopes materials?” she asked hurriedly.

  “Safe for now.” His large frame twisted to survey his surroundings. It was too quiet, too empty. “The others?”

  Vernon nodded upstairs. “Carter took your buddy Joe the truck driver…”

  “Truck driver?” he interrupted bewildered.

  Vernon explained briefly. “The others went to the fifth floor on the elevator.”

  “Just short of the top,” Chase said, pulling Tessa into the secluded area where he’d hid moments before. Vernon followed. They both knew that out in the open meant danger. He looked down at Tessa, who followed his every move, as if he might suddenly vanish.

  “Those men at the gate—did they hurt you?” Chase felt a catch in his throat asking such a question. Of course they hurt her; they were animals with no respect for human life.

  Vernon felt confident enough standing next to Tessa after her glowing words to put his arm around her shoulder. They stood like soldiers posing for pictures in Kandahar. “My girl took them out with a bottle of glass cleaner.”

  Her eyes darted to Captain Hunter in hopes of praise, “that ‘a girl”, or even a proud smile. What she got was a frown and one arched eyebrow of disapproval. “That was stupid! What if you’d missed?” he said matter-of-factly.

  “I didn’t.”

  “What if Vernon hadn’t been there?”

  “But he was.”

  “Dumb luck!” he snapped.

  “I prefer to think I had an angel watching over me. Besides it’s not like you
rushed in to save me,” Tessa argued. Why was the captain ruining her moment? She’d assisted in taking out two men who meant harm to her country. Wasn’t that a good thing?

  “The men on the loading dock?” Vernon asked carefully, as he slipped his arm back to his side after he noticed Chase’s eyes fell on it like a hammer.

  “Down,” was all he needed to say.

  Vernon nodded in acknowledgment. The captain could sometimes petrify the team with his stealth ability to take out an enemy. Vernon had seen him do it on several occasions and would not soon forget it. The most frightening part came when Chase carried on as if nothing abnormal had occurred. Maybe when you live in Afghanistan for several years something gets twisted inside you. He’d once saw him down two paramilitary types in Montana then drive back to town for a cheeseburger and fries. After that, Director Benjamin Clark forced him into therapy. Chase agreed to the weekly sessions so he could remain in command of his team. The therapist often complained Chase provided very little help in the process and even played a few mind games of his own on the doctor. The rest of the team found it hilarious. The director did not.

  “Give me that rifle,” Chase ordered as he reached for Tessa’s weapon. Reluctantly, she pulled it from her shoulder with a flinch when the strap dragged across her bruised shoulder. As he took the gun, Chase also pulled her blouse over to see her shoulder. She retreated against Vernon as she tried to shove his hand away in embarrassment.

  “Excuse me!” she fumed only to cringe when he touched her gently on the spot she’d been babying. He slowly withdrew his hand.

  He leveled a hard gaze at Vernon. “Did they do that?”

  Before Vernon could speak Tessa pulled her blouse closed. “No! You did when you knocked me down…”

  Vernon bristled. “You knocked her down!” He ordinarily wouldn’t consider standing up to a man a half foot taller than him and a good hundred pounds heavier, but hitting a woman like Tessa Scott was reprehensible.

  Chase rolled his eyes in impatience. “Yes! I did, Vernon so she wouldn’t get her head shot off! Now if you’re finished playing Lancelot I’d like to wrap this mission up so I can take her to Grass Valley and never lay eyes on her again!” Surprisingly when he cut his eyes to Tessa she looked irritated.

  It was confusing to see Vernon, normally shy around women, not only slip an arm around Tessa, but ready to defend her honor against someone who could clearly pulverize him. She’d had such a gentle effect on Jericho that he couldn’t stop talking about his involvement in this whole mess. Even Zoric, normally sadistically creepy around the fairer sex, curbed his appetite so not to unnerve Tessa. Chase noticed him running his fingers through his oily hair to try and tame it just before approaching her. She corrupted the predictability of what Chase knew worked. Even he felt compelled to be over protective. When this emergency concluded he’d gladly drop her off at her pretty Victorian house and breathe a sigh of relief. If she heard about Robert and the kids, all hell would break loose and her cooperation would end. There would be no fixing those feelings she’d harbor against him for lying.

  The elevator softly dinged. Instinctively both men pushed themselves up against the cool granite walls, tense with the adrenaline pumping through their veins. Tessa, sandwiched between Chase and the hard surface of the cold wall, could feel the beat of his heart. It was strong and steady. Inhaling the scent of his body, a mixture of sweat and soot, his large hands came up on each side of her head somehow bestowing a sense of safety. Although her body seemed immobile against the weight pressed against her, Tessa could look up into the rugged profile of the man who’d taken her on the trip of her life for the last few days. His jaw flexed only slightly, the dark eyes narrowed as if intensifying the ability to hear what he could not see. The rise and fall of his muscled chest changed little at the prospect of yet another dangerous encounter.

  Even though the unknown emptied off the elevator, Tessa believed her new friends would prevail. Unknowingly, she lifted her hands to his sides, drawing his face back to hers. His dark, troubled eyes searched her face and the creases on his forehead appeared to soften. One of his hands went to the back of her head then slid down to her shoulder like a gentle giant might do; afraid she would destruct at the slightest pressure.

  “Stay here,” he mouthed inches from her lips.

  She nodded as her hands went back to her side. What she really thought was something like no problem there! The act of her hard swallow of terror sounded like a cherry bomb in her ears as the pressure of Chase’s body removed from hers suddenly. Watching him and Vernon swing out into the open corridor, she heard surprised voices in a language she didn’t recognize followed by the rapid fire of automatic weapons.

  Covering her ears she pushed back into a corner but could still see the two Enigma men firing, hunched slightly as if trying to find the target. Fleeting questions went through her mind: why weren’t the shell casings that flew into the air making any sound when they hit the floor, why did the smell of gunpowder actually smell tantalizing? Would she ever be able to get these moments out of her head to live a normal life again? Did Enigma have some kind of potion to erase her memories into the initiation of Terrorism 101?

  The whole action of taking out the ones from the elevator took less than thirty seconds, although it seemed much longer. Not realizing her body still cringed with hands covering her ears, she watched Chase take several long strides toward her as Vernon disappeared toward whoever they’d encountered.

  “It’s done,” he said stopping inches from her. He realized in such a small area the sounds of battle could be deafening, echoing off walls while the smell of death and gunpowder poured over you like a tsunami. “One of them was Jamaal, the one you put the tracking device on in jail.”

  Tessa managed a nod as she watched Chase sling his weapon back to his shoulder and then reached out to remove her hands from her ears. Her knees felt wobbly as she tried to push away from the wall only to feel Chase’s arms go around her for support. “I’m fine,” she stammered, yet gripped the sides of his shirt with her hands. “I’m fine,” she repeated trying to push ever so cautiously a step back, feeling Chase’s capable hands still continuing to firmly hold her securely. “Are they…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “Yes. It was them or us.” Suddenly aware that Tessa was trembling, he felt goose bumps on her naked flesh that touched his arms. Pulling back he rubbed his hands up and down her arms briskly and spoke quietly. “We’ve got to keep moving, Tessa. I can find a hiding place for you…”

  “No!” she snapped in alarm. “Don’t leave me behind. Please. I’ll stay out of your way and not make trouble.” Without realizing it she had begun digging her chipped nails into his arms.

  He patted her cheek. “Good. Just remember if push comes to shove you’ve got that knife.” His hand went to her stomach, below the waistband of her jeans. “Think you can use it?”

  She shrugged as a weak smile played around the edges of her mouth. “Only if I have to save your life.” That brought a wide smile to his lips. “I’m getting pretty tired of all this one way hero stuff!”

  Before he could comment Vernon backed up into view. “Better come here, boss.” Then he disappeared again.

  Chase returned to the hall instantly to join Vernon. Two of the men from the elevator were of Middle Eastern decent, young and clothed in western style clothing. Except for being covered in blood, they looked like almost any college age student you’d find on a university campus in the United States. Their hair clipped short, clean shaven faces and expensive tennis shoes made them blend in much better than the guards at the gate or what you’d stereotype a terrorist to look like.

  The third man, Jamaal, was a different story; he could be the poster child for Know Your Neighborhood Terrorist. Grimy hair, black and curly, unshaven and mismatched clothes that screamed Salvation Army Outlet, gave Jamaal the appearance of a terrorist who just couldn’t transition into American chic. His breathing, shallow and labored so
unded like a death rattle. Blood soaked his shirt to the extent the true color no longer existed. Perspiration dripped down his face into his eyes as he blinked lethargically.

  Chase kneeled to one knee before taking Jamaal’s pulse on his neck. “You’re a dead man you worthless piece of crap.” He displayed all the sensitivity of an angry porcupine. “Where is Essid?”

  “Go to hell,” he coughed. Then he began to stare anxiously at something past Chase. “The angels come for me,” he whispered.

  Chase and Vernon turned to see Tessa staring with horrified eyes at the blood splattered on the floors and walls. Her hand covered a gag reflex when tears began to tumble out of her eyes. Slowly her hands came together at chest level, locking the fingers into a sign of prayer. Her lips began to move silently and rapidly as her eyes lifted up then closed in communication with God.

  “I don’t see an angel.” Chase stood and motioned for Vernon to nudge Tessa into action.

  Hearing Vernon’s “pisst!” Tessa opened her eyes and shifted them to Chase where he moved his head slightly, indicating she was to move to his side. Nervously she approached, appalled at the amount of blood that poured from the man who created the scenario which inevitably dragged her to this place in time. He lifted a hand toward her.

  “She comes for me. I will be in paradise.”

  “You’re hallucinating, Jamaal. No angel here. Vernon,” Chase said twisting his body to look at his partner, “do you see anything?”

  Vernon stepped closer. “Nope. No such thing as angels. Just me and the captain, Jamaal.”

  “Tell me where Essid is, Jamaal and I’ll help you out with the pain.” Chase’s voice grew gruff as he nodded down at the dying man then over at Tessa.

  “I’m going with the angel,” he continued.

  Chase stepped in front of Tessa so Jamaal couldn’t see her clearly. A look of panic leaped to his eyes. “Where’s Essid?”