Black Flagged Apex

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Black Flagged Apex Page 52

by Steven Konkoly


  “We’ll make sure this was worth it,” Fayed said, squeezing Tariq’s shoulder.

  “Fucking right we will,” Daniel added.

  Paracha tried to talk, but they heard nothing more than an incoherent rasp.

  “Take it easy, buddy. Take it easy,” he said soothingly.

  The operative’s hands started to ease away from his neck, and Daniel felt his body relax. When his arms fell to the stone, Fayed closed his eyes and glared at Mills and Jackson. Daniel tracked his murderous stare, while he eased Paracha’s body to the stone and retrieved his rifle.

  “Fayed, take Melendez and clear the house. Bring me Mills’ family,” he said and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “They’ll pay for this. Don’t worry.”

  Fayed nodded with a hard look on his face and climbed the deck with Melendez, disappearing into the house.

  “You’re hit pretty bad,” Munoz said.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Daniel said, walking up to Harding’s corpse.

  He took hold of Harding’s shirt with both hands and lifted him out of the chair, swinging him over the splintered teak table and splashing Jackson Greely with bloody brain matter. The table collapsed under the weight, spilling Harding onto the patio in front of an empty chair. Daniel stepped over Harding and took a seat, resting his feet on the dead man’s chest. He stared at the two men, noting that each of them shook slightly. Greely’s face had been decorated with clumps of deep scarlet matter, and Mills’ nose still streamed blood. Despite the shock of having their world collapse around them, they looked surprisingly composed. He’d quickly change that.

  “Gentlemen, I’ve been at this for nearly forty-eight hours. I’m tired, and I’ve just been informed that I’m bleeding, so let me save you the bullshit. We don’t work for the FBI, CIA or Department of Defense. We work for an independent organization that has no rules or boundaries. This is a point you need to understand before I ask the million-dollar question because there won’t be a referee to step in and save you,” Daniel said, shifting his rifle from Greely to Mills.

  “And there’s really no point in trying to resist. True America is finished. We found the facility used to contaminate the bottled water, and we stopped the last convoy at the distribution center. We’re tracking four additional convoys, which will be intercepted within the hour.”

  Greely stole a glance at Mills, who tried to pretend he didn’t see it.

  “Don’t get excited. We know there’s one more convoy. We just don’t know how to find it. That’s the million-dollar question we’ve been sent to ask, before the federal task force sitting in Scranton descends on Honesdale. By my watch, we have at least another ninety minutes. The president gave us ample time to obtain this information. Even if we have to do this the hard way, I can’t imagine needing more than ten. Your friend here makes a nice leg rest,” Petrovich said, shifting his feet.

  Screaming erupted from the house, causing Mills to stand. Munoz barked at him to sit back down, raising the rifle over his head to ensure his compliance. Daniel turned to see Fayed shove an attractive blond woman and two middle-school-aged girls toward the stairway leading down to the patio. Mills’ wife was dressed in black designer jeans and a tight pink blouse. Her daughters were dressed more conservatively in jeans and brightly colored sweaters. Fayed yelled at them as they protested.

  “Line them up on the edge of the pool!” Daniel yelled.

  “You need to leave them out of this! You son of a bitch!”

  Mills tried to launch out of his chair, but Munoz had anticipated his outburst and smashed the butt of his rifle down on his left shoulder, cracking his collarbone. The sound of the bone snapping could be heard over the metallic crash of the rifle. Mills’ wife grabbed both of her daughters’ hands and tried to run over to her husband, but Fayed snatched the dark-haired daughter out of her grip, stopping Sue Ellen Mills in her tracks. Melendez grabbed the woman by the neck and strong-armed her over to the pool, followed by Fayed with both of the terrified girls.

  “How do you want them?” Fayed yelled.

  “Line them up side by side, like a firing squad.”

  Daniel lifted himself up from the chair, careful not to put any pressure on his left arm. He winced and exhaled, despite his efforts to ignore the pain. Munoz came up next to him.

  “You all right?” he whispered. “You’re losing blood.”

  “I’m good for now. Small entry and exit wound. Passed right through.”

  He knew that Munoz was right. Judging by the amount of blood soaked into the light brown chair cushion, he was about ten minutes away from fading into unconsciousness. He felt all right at the moment, a little dizzy from the initial blood loss, but most of his attention was still focused on the pain. The sharp, searing sensation had been joined by a dull, agonizing ache that had spread through his arm and into his chest. The bullet had missed the coracoid process of his scapula, a small hook-like bone connected to the clavicle, likely passing through the ligament connecting the two and causing a cascade of muscle tightening and ligament inflammation throughout his body. Once on his feet, he could barely raise his left arm, but retained the function of his elbow and forearm. His fingers felt tingly, but he could still tightly grip the M1A’s hand guard.

  “This whole thing is bigger than all of us. You’re patriots. I can tell you’ve served the nation honorably, but your country has lost its way. We’re going to change all of that and put America back on its feet. Back on the track to a New Recovery,” Jackson Greely said, gesturing grandly to the sky.

  “By poisoning the U.N. and detonating a suicide bomb at the National Counterterrorism Center?”

  “This is a historical day for our citizens. Deep down inside, I know you agree,” he added.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind? True America is gone. Can’t you see that? Not only your little nightmare group, but the whole movement. There’s no way the mainstreamers will survive the bad press associated with your plot. The Republicans and Democrats will make sure of that. This might be the first time in years that they actually agree on something. It’s a real shame, actually. True America was on the path to providing an alternative to the two-party system. I heard they might have fielded a viable presidential candidate next year.”

  Jackson Greely didn’t respond. Daniel looked at Mills, who looked deflated and scared.

  “Things were cooking along nicely until you put this plan into action. Something to think about while you’re rotting in prison,” Daniel said.

  “It would have taken forever,” Greely stated.

  “And you might have missed out on the chance to sit at the big table. Where is the last convoy headed, Jackson? The least you can do is salvage a speck of dignity from this mess you’ve created.”

  “You can kiss my—”

  A single gunshot erupted from Daniel’s rifle, catching Greely under the nose and blasting the back of his head into the bushes behind him. He remained upright in the chair for a moment before toppling sideways. Mills’ wife and two daughters screamed uncontrollably as Owen Mills tried to launch himself at Daniel.

  “Time to rearrange the furniture. I want him turned to face the ladies,” he said.

  Daniel slung the rifle over his shoulder and walked behind Mills, grabbing him around the neck with his forearm.

  “Swing the chair around,” he told Munoz.

  Once Mills faced the pool, Daniel released his forearm and leaned close to Mills’ right ear.

  “I can’t kill you because you appear to be the only one left that can identify the convoy. Tell me where it’s headed, and my team will leave your family unharmed.”

  “I can’t dishonor the people who sacrificed for our cause. I won’t.”

  “That’s a lofty thing to hear from someone living in a 15,000-square-foot lakeside mansion. I think you’re full of shit, so I’m going to help you understand the true meaning of the word sacrifice. You get to pick which one of these courageous ladies pays the ultimate price for the cause you’re de
fending.”

  “You fucking psychopath! My family has nothing to do with this!”

  Daniel slapped him and screamed back. “They have everything to do with this! Your suicide bomb shattered dozens of families!”

  “What is he talking about, Owen?” Sue Ellen yelled hysterically.

  “They had to be sacrificed for America,” Mills said.

  “You’re pretty big on sacrificing the people dedicated to your cause. Hacker Valley, the laboratory staff, Benjamin Young. Am I missing anyone?”

  Daniel turned to the family standing beside the pool. “Stand them up straight!”

  “Daniel, maybe we should just focus on Mills,” Fayed said quietly.

  “I’m done with fuckers like this. Sitting back sipping scotch while his expendables make history. I need to make sure none of his DNA leaves the estate,” Daniel said, pointing his rifle at the two daughters.

  The girls screamed, and Sue Ellen Mills nearly fell into the pool trying to escape Munoz’s grasp to get between Daniel’s rifle and her children. He was starting to feel really lightheaded and could barely raise the rifle with his left arm.

  “We need to get you some medical attention,” Fayed whispered. “You’re starting to worry me.”

  Daniel cleared the haziness. He was going to finish this right here, right now. He wasn’t sure why this was taking him so long.

  “I’m fine. Mills, by the count of three, or I get to choose,” he said.

  “I can’t do that,” Mills screeched.

  “Do what? Pick which one we shoot, or tell me where the convoy is headed?”

  “I can’t do either,” he sobbed.

  “Honey, just tell them what they want to know. Please!” his wife pleaded.

  Daniel engaged the safety on his rifle and threw it to the stone patio behind him. He removed his pistol from a concealed belt holster and aimed it to the left of Sue Ellen’s head. He had no intention of shooting her, but he was losing control of the situation. He was also starting to feel short of breath, which he knew was a symptom of progressive blood loss. He wouldn’t be able to stand for very long. Maybe he wasn’t getting enough oxygen to his brain to make these decisions. He didn’t know. All he cared about was extracting the information and getting back to his life with Jessica.

  For a brief moment, he lined the pistol’s sights up on Sue Ellen’s face. Maybe shooting her in the face would get Mills to reveal the convoy’s destination. He didn’t want to do that, but his finger added pressure to the trigger. He became tunnel focused on her and no longer heard the kids screaming and crying. Mills’ pleading faded as he moved the trigger closer to its eight-pound pressure release. He could no longer guarantee that he wouldn’t shoot her. Munoz’s face appeared in the pistol’s sight picture.

  “Danny, you don’t have to do this. Fayed can handle it,” Munoz said.

  Jeffrey Munoz had placed himself between Mills’ wife and the barrel of the gun. Daniel squinted and realized that he needed to let this go. Munoz had stood in formation next to Daniel on their first day at Sanderson’s experimental training camp in Colorado. He was one of the few surviving members of the original Black Flag program, and one of the few people that truly understood how Daniel’s mind worked. Now he owed Munoz another favor. He lowered the pistol and turned to Fayed.

  “He’s all yours. Melendez, secure the family comfortably in the house.”

  “Thank you. Thank you,” Mills muttered.

  Fayed patted Daniel on the shoulder and approached Mills. Daniel stared out at the lake, shaking from the realization that he had been pulled back from the edge of the darkest hole he had ever seen. If Munoz hadn’t intervened, he would have worked his way down the line until Mills started talking. He might not have stopped at that point. Jessica would have never forgiven him for executing children. He wished he could blame what almost happened on the blood loss, but he knew better.

  Sanderson had awoken a menacing darkness deep inside of him. He’d drawn on its energy to survive his undercover assignment in Serbia, but it came with a price. It would never go dormant again, and it was always there, faintly whispering to him. Today it had risen up and screamed at him. Fayed stood behind Mills and placed his hands on the man’s shoulders, pressing downward. He leaned down and spoke loudly enough to jar Daniel back into the moment.

  “Don’t thank him yet. Here’s how it works. If you don’t tell me the convoy’s destination right now, I’m going to march you naked into the kitchen and sit you down on the front burner of that beautiful, stainless-steel Viking stove. Then, I’ll turn the oven to broil and stuff your legs inside, jamming them in place with the door. We’ll spend the next ten minutes testing the front burner settings, while broiling the flesh off your feet. I’m not kidding about this.”

  Mills looked horrified and gasped for breath.

  “What is the convoy’s final target?” Daniel said.

  Deflated and scared, he blubbered, “The Capitol Building. I…uh…donated several million dollars to the right campaigns and called in the favor. Three semi-trucks with Arrowhead Water logos delivered the bottles fifty minutes ago. Restaurant Associates accepted the shipment. They handle the Capitol Building’s dining and concessions. Can I see my family now?”

  Daniel nodded to Fayed, who removed his hands from Mills’ shoulders. Owen Mills stood on shaky legs, taking a few steps forward. He avoided eye contact, taking a path around Daniel that brought him close to the pool’s edge. Daniel raised his pistol and fired two bullets into the CEO of Crystal Source, knocking him into the pool. He landed on his back, with his arms extended sideways. A crimson geyser exploded upward from the pool as his body disappeared underneath the dark water. He didn’t wait to see if the body resurfaced. The dark whispering went silent for now.

  “He deserved a lot worse,” Fayed said.

  “I agree, but we don’t have the time. The feds will show up at any second, and I had no intention of losing any of these guys to an army of lawyers. Grab Tariq’s gear. Berg’s guy took a serious risk getting this gear to us. We roll in thirty seconds,” Daniel said.

  “I’ll meet the team out front,” he said and started removing Tariq’s vest.

  “Should we bring him along? I hate to leave him here, scattered among these criminals,” Daniel said.

  “Tariq’s corpse is the last thing we need to be hauling around in a car. Sanderson can straighten this out with the FBI,” Fayed said.

  “Speak of the devil,” Daniel said.

  He removed a satellite phone from one of the magazine pouches and answered the call.

  “Good timing. We just finished cocktails.”

  “Don’t fuck with me right now. I can never tell if you’re fucking with me. Did you get the information?”

  “Still on the run?”

  “Daniel, I need to make a few very important phone calls. Important to you and important to me. Cut the shit for once,” Sanderson said.

  Daniel could tell from the sound quality that he was on the road. For some reason, the image of Sanderson fleeing in a gypsy caravan made him happy.

  “The Capitol Building. Delivered fifty minutes ago by three semi-trailers with Arrowhead logos. Tariq is dead.”

  “Jesus. I’m really sorry to hear that. Fayed’s Middle East group took a beating. All right. You need to stay off the grid until further notice. Escape and evade. We’re still on the FBI’s shit list,” Sanderson said.

  “I assume you can fix that?”

  “I’m working on a plan.”

  “You need to work fast because I’m going to require hospitalization within the next fifteen minutes. I’ve lost too much blood to ride it out.”

  “Get yourself to an ER. I’ll have this squared away soon enough.”

  “That would sound more encouraging to me if I didn’t suspect you were driving at breakneck speed toward some dingy hideout in Neuquén right now.”

  “Have a little faith. When have I ever let you down?”

  Daniel didn’t say a
word. He waited for Sanderson to speak.

  “All right. Don’t answer that question. You’ll be back in South Carolina with Jessica by…tomorrow,” Sanderson said.

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  Chapter 58

  2:36 PM

  The President’s Study-The White House

  Washington, D.C.

  Frederick Shelby walked with two Secret Service agents through the walkway connected to the Oval Office by a hidden door located at the eleven o’clock position facing directly north of the president’s office. The other hidden door led to his secretary’s office. Shelby was surprised when the agents continued past the door and took him toward the hallway leading deeper into the West Wing. He passed two officers from the Secret Service’s Uniformed Division manning a security checkpoint at the entrance to the hallway. With a simple nod, the agents passed through the checkpoint, along with Shelby.

  The agents opened the first door on the left, which led into the president’s study. Shelby nodded at the agents and entered, surprised to see Major General Bob Kearney and Lieutenant General Frank Gordon, both wearing headsets, seated in front of two flat-screen monitors and a small array of computer equipment. The president sat at his desk, facing the screens, with Jacob Remy watching over the generals’ shoulders. The door closed behind him.

  “Director Shelby, please take a seat. There’s been an interesting development. General Sanderson has been running a ghost operation that tracked the virus canisters to a laboratory in Pennsylvania, just outside of Scranton. It appears that your instincts were right. Here’s what we know: Owen Mills, the CEO of Crystal Source water and a major donor to True America, partnered with Jackson Greely and Lee Harding to destabilize our government.”

 

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