They sat in silence for a few minutes, the highway empty and the headlights glowing on the bases of the trees. The tree trunks went up into darkness in a ghostly way. Ahead, a car came around the corner and approached. As it passed, Jeffrey saw the light bar and side markings of a police cruiser. Jeffrey watched the cruiser growing distant in his rearview mirror.
“Was that a cop?” Leif said, as he turned and looked through the cracked rear window.
“Nothing to worry about,” Jeffrey said. “There’s no reason for him to notice us.”
The police cruiser’s brake lights came on. It pulled onto the shoulder and swung through a U-turn. Its bright headlights flashed across Jeffrey’s eyes and then came at them, fast.
What the hell did I do to attract this guy’s attention?
At that moment, the blue and red strobing LED’s came blasting on, filling the interior of the sedan. For a moment, Jeffrey considered smashing down the accelerator and running, but he knew they couldn’t run from a police cruiser in the sedan. Even if he could pull away, the deer trail to the gunship was too long and difficult to make a getaway on, especially with a wounded hostage. They would be caught. It left him only one choice. Jeffrey pulled the car over on the pine-needled shoulder. The police cruiser pulled up behind him, the spotlights glittering along the crack in the rear window. The blue and red lights flared off the surrounding trees.
Jeffrey’s heart rate doubled as adrenaline flashed through his limbs. He reached into his right thigh pocket, touching the handle of the pistol. Stacy took hold of his wrist and, with gentle pressure, pulled his hand out of his pocket.
“One step at a time,” she said.
“I have no idea why this guy just pulled me over,” Jeffrey said, “but we don’t have time to find out. The minute he sees Freisman and runs the plates, we’re cooked. Then, it’s either this cop dies, or we take him too. If he gets suspicious, and is well trained, it will be very dangerous to both him and us to try and take him. We either kill him or we play ‘broken wing’ and trap him.”
“I vote for trapping,” Stacy said.
“I agree,” Leif said. “If we can get to the end of this, we’re going to have to try and clear our names. Killing an innocent cop won’t help.”
Jeffrey nodded. He looked at Freisman in the rearview mirror. Blood from a cut on Freisman’s forehead darkened the bridge of his nose and his mouth.
Jeffrey said, “Freisman, you hear me?”
Freisman answered in a whisper, “Yes.”
“You fell hiking, got it? We’re taking you for medical help.”
There was no answer, just his soft wheezing.
“You make this cop suspicious, he dies. You gain nothing. Got it?”
Freisman dropped his head. For a moment, Jeffrey thought he was not going to answer, but then he said, in a quiet rasp, ‘Yes.’
The police cruiser’s door opened, and the cop got out. He adjusted his belt and walked up to the side of the sedan, shining his flashlight into the backseat and then the front. The sides of his shaved scalp showed under the wide brim of his hat. Jeffrey felt his stomach tighten when he saw the size of the cop. His biceps stretched his shirtsleeves, and his barrelled chest pressed the edges of his bullet-proof vest outward. The cop shined his flashlight on Freisman and then back to Jeffrey. He tapped the glass with the knuckle of his index finger. Jeffrey lowered the window.
“Sir,” Jeffrey said.
“Everything all right?” the cop asked, his jaw squared and his expression humorless. The coals of his eyes glittered in the strobing lights.
“Well, not really sir. We were doing some hiking, and my friend took a fall. We need to get him to a hospital,” Jeffrey said.
“You were heading out of town with your high-beams on, and your friend took a fall,” the cop said, playing the light across Jeffrey’s cut-off BDU’s, and then into the back on Freisman.
Jeffrey looked down to the dashboard and saw the blue high-beam indicator light.
Forgot to dim my lights…
He thought about his first kill from yesterday, the soldier’s silhouette glittering in the intense sunlight.
It’s always the stupid little mistakes that take you down.
“I’m not good with blood,” Jeffrey said. “That must be why I forgot to dim my lights. We were trying to decide what to do.”
The cop stepped away from the door. “Step out of the car, sir.”
Jeffrey opened the door and shifted his weight off the seat. He stood and saw that he had the cop by a few inches.
This isn’t good. This guy’s not used to looking up at people. If he’s startled by my size, he’s going to be even more cautious.
The cop placed his hand on his holstered tazer and pointed behind the sedan. “Now step around the back of the car and talk with me.”
Jeffrey walked around to the back of the car, squinting into the intense spotlights.
No one else in the cruiser. He’s alone at least.
The cop clicked off his flashlight and hung it on his belt. He kept his distance from Jeffrey, standing where he could see both Jeffrey and the sedan. With the cop’s hand on his tazer, Jeffrey was not ready to risk lunging at him.
“Place your hands on the trunk and spread your feet.”
Jeffrey turned and the cop stepped forward, pushing Jeffrey toward the trunk. Jeffrey placed his hands on the trunk lid. The cop patted him down his left side, then started down his right toward the pistol.
I’m done when he reaches the gun. Now or never.
The cop’s hand moved past Jeffrey’s waist. Jeffrey tensed, preparing to whip around and strike. The passenger door shoved open, and Stacy got out of the sedan.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Stacy yelled at the cop. “My uncle is badly hurt and you’re frisking my dad?”
The cop stopped his search. “Ma’am you need to get back in the car, now. Sit down.”
Jeffrey spun away from the cop, but the cop, having planted his weight well, did not fall forward as Jeffrey had hoped. Jeffrey grabbed the cop’s forearm, lifted it, and hooked a punch into the cop’s ribcage. His fist hit a wall of muscle. He swung again, this time at the cop’s jaw, but the cop raised his shoulder and ducked under the punch. The cop threw a hook, landing it in Jeffrey’s midsection. The punch compressed through Jeffrey’s torso, causing him to hesitate. In that half second, the cop pulled his tazer, planted it in Jeffrey’s chest, and fired. The electricity burned through Jeffrey, and he bit his tongue. His neck muscles pulled his face back, and the arches of his feet tightened, lifting him onto his toes. With his legs and feet locked up, he tipped forward and fell face first to the gravel. A pistol shot fractured the air, and a muzzle flash lit the trees.
“That’s enough of that,” he heard Stacy say.
The officer took a step back and Stacy fired another shot. A head-sized spider web cracked into the windshield of the police cruiser.
“Now, if you keep backing away from me,” Stacy said, “I’m going to have to stop you, so if you stop yourself, we’ll be a lot better off.”
Jeffrey felt his muscles going slack. He forced his arm down into his pocket, and drew his pistol. Reaching out, he tapped it’s muzzle on the cop’s shin. The cop looked down at Jeffrey. Jeffrey, half-blind from the cruiser’s spotlights, said, “If you take it easy, you won’t be hurt.”
The cop put his hands up and said, “Bullshit.”
Jeffrey pushed himself up to his knees. Then, using the bumper of the sedan for support, got to his feet. He leaned on the trunk as his back spasmed.
“Put your hands on the trunk,” he said to the cop. The cop stepped forward and placed his hands palms-down on the car. Stacy side-stepped around to the sedan, her gun trained on him. Jeffrey took the handcuffs off the cop’s belt and pulled one arm back, slapping the cuff on it. His back spasmed again, and he shifted forward, nearly falling into the cop.
“You all right?” Stacy asked.
“Fine.”
>
Jeffrey pulled the cop’s other arm and the cop did not let him draw it back. Jeffrey grabbed the cop’s pinkie and ring fingers and pulled them backwards, and the cop’s arm followed. Jeffrey connected the cuff and then hauled the cop off the trunk. He took the cop’s pistol, tazer, and flashlight, handing each to Stacy.
“Leif, open the cruiser’s trunk.”
Leif got out of the car and jogged to the police cruiser, the headlights flicking across his legs.
“A car’s coming,” he said, looking past the cruiser.
Jeffrey looked to where the road bent out of sight and saw the trees glowing with headlights.
“Get it open,” he said to Leif. Leif leaned into the cruiser and pressed the trunk release. Jeffrey shoved the cop to the rear of the cruiser. He lifted the trunk lid and called to Stacy.
“Can you get this stuff into the back seat for me?”
She grabbed road flares, rain gear, and emergency supplies and tossed them into the rear seat of the police cruiser. Jeffrey took out a flashlight and then pushed the cop into the trunk.
The cop looked up at him. “You realize how much trouble you’re in, don’t you?”
“Brother,” Jeffrey said, “I’m in a lot more trouble than you can possibly imagine. You’ll be lucky to see me alive again to testify against me.”
He shoved the cop’s legs in, and–for the first time–the cop’s coal-dark eyes showed fear.
Jeffrey put his palm on the cop’s chest. “You’ll be fine.”
He shut the trunk. The cop began kicking dents outward on the quarter panel of the cruiser. Headlights emerged from around the corner. Jeffrey motioned for them to get back in the sedan. Even in the sedan they heard the cop kicking the hell out of the trunk of his cruiser. A taillight broke.
“Aren’t we going to get out of here?” Stacy asked.
“Not yet. I want that guy’s shotgun from his car. We’re just a car pulled over by a cop. Someone driving by won’t notice the cop’s missing.”
The headlights bore down on them, and the semi roared by pulling a silver trailer. It continued down the road, red taillights diminishing. Jeffrey got out of the sedan and went back to the cruiser, found the shotgun release, and pulled the gun from its holder.
From the radio came: “Unit 364, please report in.”
Jeffrey opened the glove box and found a box of shells. Beside the passenger seat he found another heavy, black flashlight. All the while, the cop kicked at the inside of the trunk.
As he closed the cruiser’s door, he heard: “Unit 361 please check on unit 364.”
The cop continued to kick at the inside of the trunk. Jeffrey walked to the sedan’s driver side door. He reached in, handing Stacy the shotgun and shells. Sitting down in the sedan, he pulled the door closed. He threw the sedan into gear and spun his tires, pelting the police cruiser with gravel.
Jeffrey drove at twice the speed limit and, in a few moments, came up on the semi rolling down the highway. The trailer’s tall doors glittered in the sedan’s headlights. Jeffrey felt exposed behind the semi, but he didn’t know where the trail ran off the road and might miss it if he passed the semi. The back of Jeffrey’s neck cooled with sweat, and he kept looking into his rearview mirror, expecting blue and red lights to come strobing around the last bend at any moment. He saw highway marker 17 and pulled over to the right. The semi rolled off into the distance again. Jeffrey drove a few hundred more yards and spotted the embankment up to the deer trail.
He pulled the car to a stop and gripped the steering wheel. Then he let out a breath.
“That was good work back there,” he said, looking over at Stacy and then at Leif in the rearview mirror. “A bit rough on the delivery, but we got done what we needed to. You both good?”
“Great,” Leif said.
Stacy nodded and said, “We need to get out of here.”
“Always the practical one,” Jeffrey said, and threw his door open. He opened the rear door, gripped Freisman by the upper-arm, and pulled him out of the car. Freisman gave a sharp bark in pain.
Stacy took the lead with one of the flashlights. Leif followed her up the trail, carrying the shotgun. Behind them, Jeffrey pushed the flashlight into Freisman’s back, forcing him to move ahead. Freisman walked along holding his side. He groaned each time he had to step over a root or lean under a branch. They heard a siren in the distance.
“They’ll have patrols all over this area in no time,” Freisman said. “You can’t hide in the woods.”
“We aren’t going to hide in the woods,” Leif said.
“Just let him think what he wants to think,” Stacy said. “He’ll get the idea soon enough.”
Freisman walked along, seemingly resigned to his fate. Out in the forest, every so often, they heard the shuffle of small animals and the crack of sticks. At one point, a large pounding burst from the darkness beside them and ran off. They heard at least two aircraft now and distant shouts. Far behind them, search lights illuminated the tops of the trees.
They broke out into the clear-cut, and Freisman–seeing the Kiowa–said, “I don’t understand. Who are you people?”
Stacy jogged up to the rear of the gunship and pressed the ramp switch. The ramp cracked open and hissed down to the grass. She pointed for Freisman to walk up into the ship. He did as she directed, and Leif shoved him down into a seat, strapping down his legs and head. Taking out a roll of tape from one of the survival bags, Leif taped Freisman’s arms down. The ramp clamped closed.
Jeffrey sat down next to Freisman and pulled out Freisman’s sat-phone. He dialed and then hit the end-call key. He held the phone to his ear.
“Yes, we’re out.” He sat quietly for a moment and then said, “He’s a bit worse for wear, but he’ll live if he chooses to. You need to get the woman and the girl out of the house fast. We were pulled over and had to tie up a cop… What?... Yeah, we put him in his own trunk. They’ve probably already identified Freisman’s car and may be on the way to the house right now.” Jeffrey fell silent for a moment. Freisman wheezed next to him.
“Good, I’ll contact you when he’s told us what we need to know. Then you can let the woman and the girl go. If he won’t talk you can start with the wife. We’ll give him a second chance on the girl.”
He fell silent for a moment, then asked into the phone, “What’s that?” Quiet again. “No we don’t work that way. You may be used to that, but if he talks he gets his wife and daughter back, untouched. I’m a man of my word, you got that? If you prove me wrong, I deal with you, understand?” A short silence, and then, “Good, now take the woman and the girl and get out of there.” He put the phone back in his pocket, saying, “Goddamn punks.”
Freisman looked at him, his eyes wincing with each breath.
“Any more speeches on your ability to read people?” Jeffrey asked.
Freisman lowered his eyes. “No.”
Leif and Stacy settled into their seats. Standing, Jeffrey walked into the cockpit. He settled down into the seat, pulled on the harnesses, and fired the engines. The small trees and grasses around the cockpit blew around in the jet wash. Jeffrey looked up at the tree tops, along the edge of the clear-cut, wondering if a police pursuit would come into view. The Kiowa’s engines had cooled fully and the temperature gauges rose in a slow arc.
Jeffrey saw a searchlight begin playing at the tops of the trees. The temperature gauges went green, and he lifted the gunship off the ground. He flew across the clear-cut staying below the surrounding trees, and then, as he lifted up at the north side, he turned the ship sideways. Toward the highway, two police-patrol aircraft shined their search lights into the forest canopy.
A fast response. Not quite fast enough though.
Jeffrey turned the gunship away from the patrolling aircraft and, coming up over the trees, flew north. Acceleration pushed him back into the seat, and he relaxed with the speed and power of the gunship.
CHAPTER 19
The Kiowa nosed up, and the engines
thrummed with the effort of hovering. The floor gave a kick as the landing gear thumped into position. The wavering of being airborne disappeared as the gunship touched down on solid ground.
Stacy and Leif unstrapped themselves. Jeffrey came into the back from the cockpit.
“No one saw us leave the area and their aircraft were right over their own search party. That would cover our engine noise. They most likely don’t even know we had an aircraft and will be searching that forest until morning.”
“Where are we now?” Stacy asked.
“Deep in the Olympic Peninsula,” Jeffrey said, and pressed the ramp release. It opened, and the sound of rushing water on stone filled the cab. Reaching up, Jeffrey turned off the lights. The gunship sat on a broad, gravel shoal–a dark, rushing river on either side. The moonlight caught the water, sparkling its black surface with arcs and crests of light. Beyond the river, black silhouettes of treetops underlined the deep stars.
“You definitely know how to pick your spots,” Stacy said, as she stepped out onto the gravel. Leif followed her. Jeffrey unstrapped Freisman and walked him out onto the shoal. Downed trees lay here and there across the gravel, gray in the moonlight. Jeffrey walked Freisman over to a log, their footfalls noisy and shifting in the loose stones.
“Sit down,” he said.
Freisman sat.
“I need some information from you.” He took the ammo can from the bag and unclamped it. He lifted the spider out of the ammo can. Moonlight glinted off the broken edges of carbon fiber.
Holding up the spider, he willed himself to not shudder. “What can you tell me about this?”
Hammerhead Page 15