People Raged: and the Sky Was on Fire-Compendium (Rick Banik Thrillers Book 1)

by Craig Martelle

  Rick walked with his head down and motioned for his wife to roll down the window. “Park it and take the metro. You need to get out of here. Don’t go through the mall.”

  Rick watched his wife pull back into the space, get out, and lock the van behind her. The kids were confused but took it all in stride.

  “You’re not going to leave?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, we’re going to leave, but you two assholes made that impossible, so we’re going to leave, but we can’t drive. Thank you for that, jag off!” The other man was getting furious. Rick gave him the finger. “And here’s one for you, too, buddy.” He looked like he wanted to come after Rick, but the second contestant for the parking spot drove right up to his bumper and laid into her horn. She was right. He was going in the wrong direction.

  Not wanting to fight everyone, the man got into his car and backed around until he left the garage. Rick gave him the finger again as he passed.

  “Would you put that thing away?” his wife asked angrily. They watched the procession of vehicles until the road opened up.

  “I think you can drive away now, honey.” Rick’s eyes darted back and forth between his minivan and Clay’s. They were parked four spaces apart. If it blew, he selfishly didn’t want his own car damaged. He didn’t know if his insurance covered acts of terrorism. He’d have to check on that when he wasn’t in the middle of one.

  Rick used his body to block the road, ensuring that his wife could get out of the parking spot and leave.

  He breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them head down the ramp toward the exit.

  Where Is He?

  Rick rushed back inside. He forced his way through the mass of people to the railing and looked down. He wanted to scan the crowd, find Mohammed, but his eyes were drawn to the stacks of wrapped presents beneath the massive Christmas tree.

  They’d found empty boxes for nails, hex-head nuts, and aluminum foil. If it blew in the middle of the courtyard below, the projectiles would rip through everyone down there. Rick tried to count, estimating the space that ten bodies took up, then adding each block of ten and he came up with hundreds. Maybe five hundred people in the open area.

  From far away he heard his name. He looked around and tried to cock an ear. It was loud in the Fashion Centre today, but he caught it again. His phone.

  “Sorry, Becky. I forgot I still had you online. I’m looking at the courtyard inside the mall. A rough estimate is five hundred people in the immediate vicinity, with thousands more in the stores on the various levels. I’m looking at a stack of presents under the tree.” Rick looked around as Becky relayed what he was saying to the watch commander. People were wedged against him on the rail, but they were on their own phones, carrying on their own conversations.

  “There are two local units at the mall right now. That’s only two men. They were spread thin today so they couldn’t double up. What do we need them to do?” She asked.

  Two officers. They couldn’t do anything substantive. Rick needed an EOD team and a hundred LEOs. Maybe the two could start evacuating the area around Santa. Maybe they could start checking the gift-wrapped boxes.

  The Christmas display was made up of empty boxes wrapped as presents, except for the ones with the bombs. If officers shook them, they could explode. They’d found Gold and green foil in the storage unit. Fully half the presents under the tree were wrapped in gold or green foil. But that left half that didn’t need checking.

  Rick ran through the logic in his head. He hadn’t thought this far. His focus had always been on finding the faceless man. Now that he found him, he needed to know why.

  Why was Mohammed Marsook here?

  Because the bombs weren’t on timers, Rick realized. The terrorist was going to detonate them himself. Forget those, he thought, if they could get to Mohammed, then they could stop the attack. They hadn’t found any recruitment efforts besides al-Suqami’s. Had Mohammed personally delivered the devices? Rick thought that unlikely. A sophisticated man like him didn’t do grunt work, although he was the one who killed Clay.

  He had to find Mohammed, then they could formulate the rest of the plan. Rick rested his hand on his pistol. If they only had two officers, then taking down Mohammed was probably the only option. The best defense is a good offense, Rick thought, appropriate to deal with the man who warped and killed an outstanding football player.

  Looking at the people standing at the railing of the mall’s top floor, most were young girls. He saw the same thing on the floor below. People at the railing, many on their phones, some watching others. He moved around, to get a better look at those on the next level down as that was the best angle to see Santa and the Christmas tree.

  Twenty steps later he saw Mohammed Marsook, standing at the railing directly below where Rick had been, enjoying a coffee while he casually watched the courtyard. He had one hand in a pocket. Rick focused on that but quickly walked away before he was spotted. This man was a professional, and Rick was not.

  As he fought his way through the crowd to get to the escalator, he looked back trying to find Mohammed, but the Da’esh recruiter was no longer at the railing. Rick elbowed people out of the way while hurrying from the escalator, receiving some rude comments in return.

  You’ll thank me later, he thought. As Rick was making his way against the flow of people, he made eye contact with Mohammed, who was heading for the down escalator. Rick looked away quickly but knew that he’d screwed up. He took out his phone and leaned his back against the railing. He said in a loud voice as Mohammed passed below him on the down escalator, “I’m sorry, honey, I lost the kids!”

  “What the hell are you talking about Rick? This is Becky.”

  “Let me look, they might be in the food court.” Rick looked around and deliberately didn’t look at people on the escalator as he scanned the courtyard. In his peripheral vision, he saw Mohammed looking at him, then shrug as he turned back around.

  “Sorry, Becky. He was right next to me, and we made eye contact. I think we got past it, but when he sees me again, he’ll know. Where are those two LEOs? We need to stop this guy right now. Wait.” Rick moved around the railing until he saw Mohammed walking toward the next down escalator.

  “It’s crunch time, Becky. I think he’s heading for the exit. Call it a blow and go. Yes, I use humor to cope. If we screw this up, people will die.” Rick forced his way back to the escalator and headed down. Mohammed was directly beneath him and couldn’t see. Rick worked his way past the people standing on the escalator. He mumbled apologies as he passed.

  He hit the bottom and swung wide into a crowd as he stayed away from where Mohammed might see him.

  D-Day – Where Are They?

  Mohammed looked around for his zealots. The three who were to detonate the Christmas presents were supposed to be working at various stands in the food court. They were hired for this day for cash under the table to deal with the rush of people. American greed opens the door, Mohammed smiled to himself.

  He stood tantalizingly close to the Christmas tree, scanning the presents, and only seeing two of those he wrapped. He walked around it, leaning down to look under the tree branches.

  Only two. One of the zealots had already failed him, as expected.

  But two would do. Once he confirmed the two backpacks were in place, he could light this candle as the Americans might say. Adrenaline rushed through into his system.

  Months of planning and finally it was here. It was impossible not to get excited. He smiled at the parents and children in line to see Santa. There was a minor scuffle with some pushing.

  If you only knew how meaningless your efforts are, he thought, knowing they couldn’t hear him. It made him smile wider.

  There! Two zealots who delivered their presents. He made eye contact but gave nothing away. One of the zealots waved. Mohammed didn’t acknowledge him. Was there no limit to their stupidity? Mohammed casually walked away from the tree, not looking at the two men as he strolled at an ang
le away from them. Why were they together? They shouldn’t know about each other.

  It was too much. He had to talk with them. He turned and walked up to them.

  “Good morning,” he said as he pushed them into a corner near the metro entrance. “Could you two idiots look more conspicuous?” He hissed. They both held up their hands protectively.

  “We are on break. We figured standing together would look less conspicuous. I recognized him from the mosque.” As understanding dawned on him, one man looked at the other. They both pulled their remotes from their pockets, showing each other. They smiled and embraced.

  “Put those away!” Mohammed growled. He’d wrongly assumed they revealed their mission. He had to get things back under control. He only needed two more minutes. “You. Go over there and stand behind the escalator. And you,” pointing to the other man, “stand by the door to the stairs. I will stay here, then signal. Count to five, and then do your duty.” He slapped them both on the shoulder and smiled as they nodded and walked away, each to his own designated spot.

  Seize Them

  Rick watched Mohammed approach the two men. “Becky, there are two men. Our man looks pissed at them. He isn’t doing this alone,” Rick said more to himself than the phone. Our two police. I need them to take those two down.”

  Mohammed’s conversation was short, ending as the two men in front of him hugged. After that, they each went in a different direction. Rick relayed their locations as Becky passed it to someone in the Fusion Center. He expected it was getting sent from there to someone in the dispatch office and then to the two officers on site.

  Rick looked around and spotted the LEOs as they walked together across the center of the courtyard, parting the crowd of people as they went. Rick watched as one leaned his ear close to his handset.

  Rick shook his head. There had to be a better way. He passed the updated locations of the two men to Becky. He watched as the LEOs continued on a path toward Mohammed before they received the updates. Rick told Becky to tell the LEOs to meet him in the One Stop News store. Rick was next to it and quickly made his way in.

  The LEOs finally changed direction and joined him. As they walked up to the counter, he joined them as they all faced the clerk. Rick showed his CIA credentials and then described the two men that needed to be held for questioning. The LEOs nodded and casually departed. Rick was happy to be working with professionals. The clerk behind the counter looked at him, trying to see his credentials, but he closed and put them back in his jacket pocket. He smiled at her and apologized for not buying anything.

  Before Rick stepped out, he watched as the LEOs approached their targets, indirectly, without looking at them. Perfect. Rick pulled his pistol from his inside pocket and wrapped his hand around it in his outside pocket.

  Rick walked toward the escalator as it was close to Mohammed who now stood by the Metro entrance.

  Rick put his phone to his left ear. “Hi honey, it’s me.”

  NOW!

  Mohammed scanned the upper levels for the two zealots with the backpacks. They were late, or they were staying out of sight. He couldn’t tell which, and neither was good. He needed them standing next to the designated pillars, where they were to leave their backpacks, blowing them as they walked out exits nearby.

  He finally found one man, in position, looking around suspiciously. The other was standing at the railing, on the phone, with his backpack at his feet. Mohammed wondered why he hadn’t seen them before. Maybe he was more worried than he realized.

  Stop worrying, the time is now, Mohammed told himself. He turned toward the metro entrance, closed his eyes, and said a short prayer. He wrapped his fingers around the remote, the one remote that was keyed to all devices. Mohammed had no intention of leaving the detonations in the hands of the zealots, although their remotes would work, theirs were only keyed to their specific devices. The two zealots with the backpacks were in place. The boxes were under the tree.

  There was no reason to wait. Mohammed walked toward the metro entrance as he pulled the remote from his pocket, yawning as he stretched his hand into the air, giving it a better line of sight to the two boxes under the tree and two backpacks on the upper levels.

  NOW!

  Rick walked toward Mohammed, looking at him out the side of his eye. The man was looking for someone. He focused on people on the first and second floors above the food court. Rick saw the moment of recognition and the satisfied smile.

  “I found the kids, honey! Gotta go. It looks like now’s the time.” Rick watched Mohammed turn and pull something from his pocket.

  Rick held his pistol as he started to run. People dove out of his way. Rick saw the remote in Mohammed’s hand as he approached.

  With a wide swing, Rick hit the man in the back of the head with his gun. The remote flew away from the terrorist’s hand as he fell forward, stunned. Rick’s wrist hurt from the impact, but he jumped on Mohammed’s back, pinning him to the ground. With a handful of hair, Rick twisted the recruiter’s head back viciously as he jammed the pistol barrel into the man’s cheek.

  “You! Put that gun down!” Rick heard the order from a man in street clothes only a few feet away. “I’m a police officer, and you need to put that gun down.”

  “This man’s a terrorist!” Rick replied at a higher pitch than he intended. “I’m Rick Banik with the CIA. My credentials are in my pocket, and no, I’m not going to reach for them.”

  Everything seemed to slow down. There seemed to be no sound as Rick looked into the barrel of a gun pointed his way. He heard his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Freezing in place, he remembered something.

  “There’s a remote detonator for a bomb lying over there. Anyone see it?” he asked. A young woman pointed to something on the floor by her feet.

  “Don’t touch it!” Rick yelled. The plain clothes police officer wavered. “You,” Rick continued, looking at a wide-eyed teenager standing two feet away, “reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my credentials. Come on now. We need this standoff to end, and I’m not letting this man go.” Mohammed slurred his words as he tried to say something. Rick pressed harder.

  The officer looked away as there was a commotion by the escalator. An officer in uniform had just body-slammed a man and was cuffing him. Rick cringed, thinking there’d be an explosion any second now as a remote was pressed inadvertently.

  “Becky, if you can hear me, tell the LEOs to secure the remotes!” Rick yelled at his jacket.

  The boy finally removed the credentials and opened them. “The CIA!” He whispered.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the officer said as he produced his badge and showed it to Rick.

  “Cuff him,” Rick said as they traded places and Rick was able to put his pistol back into the inner pocket of his jacket. He looked up and saw camera phones recording his every move. He shook his head, just as someone came closer and kicked the remote.

  “STOP!” he screamed. He crawled along the floor to the simple looking garage-door remote and picked it up. He carried it in two fingers above his head as he walked back toward the courtyard, to look for the two men who’d been at the railing. The one on the phone was gone. The other wore a shocked expression from watching the police arrest two men in the courtyard.

  He hadn’t seen Rick knock Mohammed down as they were too far underneath the first level balcony. He turned to run.

  “Stop him!” Rick yelled in his loudest voice, pointing to the terrorist as he turned to run. A burly man next to him grabbed an arm, and the smaller of the two began to fight. The big man felled the terrorist with one punch. “Hold him there,” Rick yelled. “Make sure you have his hands. Don’t let him reach into his pockets. I’m coming up!” Rick hoped that he made his point. Look at that, more bystanders with cell phones.

  He wished he had more LEOs to secure the people and confiscate some of those damn phones.

  As he headed up the escalator, he flinched when he heard an explosion from the second level above the courty
ard. It came from the area of the exit to the parking garage.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Becky! We have Mohammed and three who were probably helping him. There’s been an explosion, second level above the food court. I’m heading there as soon as I snag the remote from the guy on the first level. Rick ran around the railing, pushing people out of the way as he held his credentials in front of him. In the legal world, he had no jurisdiction, but in the mall at this point in time, he looked official, and people got out of his way.

  If Rick thought the man looked big from the courtyard, he was gigantic in person. He held both the small man’s wrists together in one massive hand.

  “Damn, dude. You’re huge!” Rick exclaimed as he showed his credentials. “Can you stand him up?”

  “CIA? Cool!” the burly man said as he bobbed his head. He stood and lifted the zealot off the ground. The small man kicked Rick in the chest, so Rick rabbit-punched him in the groin. The other would have doubled over if he hadn’t been held so tightly. Rick pushed close and wrapped one arm around both legs before reaching in one pocket, then another, carefully as he searched for the remote. He found it in the jacket pocket. He pulled it out with two fingers and pushed the man’s legs away as he jumped back out of reach.

  “Hold him on the ground. LEOs will be by to get him. I have to go upstairs, now. Thank you and don’t let anyone touch that backpack,” Rick said pointing to the bag next to the column as he jogged away.

  “Yeah, buddy!” The man yelled at Rick’s back. “You can tell the world that Jimmy MacSmackdown is working with the CIA saving America from terrorists! Man! This is going to be the best promo ever!”