Death Toll Rising

by Terry Keys

  I walked over to Hilary. “Hey, the camp’s full of kids your age. Maybe you can find someone to hang out with.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “I don’t want to find someone to hang out with, Dad. I have my own friends, ya know.”

  “Hey, just trying to help. I don’t want you to be miserable the next few days. I’d feel pretty guilty.”

  “Well, maybe you guys should have thought about that before you made me come.”

  I kissed her on the forehead. “Well, honey, it’ll be as good as you make it. I love you. Good night.”

  I waltzed over to Paul and DeLuca. I waited until Paul was finished playing Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven.”

  “You still play the hell out of that song, man,” I said, placing my arm around his shoulder.

  “Thanks, Knuckles.”

  “I think Miranda’s on to us, though.”

  “Hey, if it ain’t broke,”—he paused and we finished it together—“don’t fix it!”

  “I think we’re turning in. Got a long day tomorrow, and the sun will zap your energy floating down that river,” I said.

  “Sounds like you’re a softie or something, Porter,” DeLuca teased.

  “Talk to me tomorrow after we get off the river,” I snapped back.

  I unzipped our tent and climbed in. Miranda was already curled into the fetal position on top of our air mattress. I spooned up next to her, said a quick prayer, and called it a night.

  Chapter 4

  Somewhere in the Syrian mountains.

  Abu Yallah flicked his finger down the screen of his iPad. He couldn’t understand why it was taking so long for the online chatter regarding the death of Japan’s prime minister to crank up. Surely it had been long enough for the world to be talking. Especially in this twenty-four-hour-a-day-news-coverage world we lived in. Then he heard a knock on his door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Sir, it’s me, Hasan. I have news for you, sir.”

  Abu set his iPad down. “Enter.”

  “Before you speak, have you gathered all of the men like I asked?” Abu demanded.

  “Yes, sir. They are all waiting for you in the main room.”

  “Good. We will go together at once. What is it that you have to tell me?”

  “One of the men is missing.”

  Abu looked up from his iPad. “What do you mean, missing, Hasan?”

  “I mean he is not here, sir. I’ve looked everywhere, high and low. He is gone.”

  Abu slammed his iPad onto the concrete. “After we meet with the group, you will send a three-man team to find him. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Who is this man, Hasan?”

  “It is Rael, sir, who is missing.”

  “Rael. He was one of the men that I trusted least. It appears my intuition was correct. Listen, Hasan. If we do not find him in two days’ time, we will bring his wife and daughters in to teach him and everyone else a lesson.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand, sir. Rael must have left sometime during the night. I am sorry, sir. We will find him. I will send our best men.”

  Abu stood up and pushed opened the door. At six foot five, Abu towered over almost everyone he met. He approached the room where the group was waiting and stormed inside. He peered around the room, taking his time and staring into each man’s eyes one by one.

  “I am told we have a deserter. We will find him and kill him. A lesson must be taught. Allah is good. This traitor must be in love with America. The infidels must die. Rael must die, and so must his family.”

  Cheers and applause erupted from the room.

  “This mission is the largest ever planned. Years and years of research, intel gathering, payoffs to government officials, and countless lost lives. We must remain vigilant. We must remain focused. Our mission is not complete. Only the first phase is under way. Do not get distracted. This will be the end of the American people once and for all!”

  More cheers and applause came from the men.

  “In two days’ time we launch part two of the mission and set our sights on another target. All of this blood will be on the hands of the Americans. World War III will be on the horizon, and it will be because of your hard work and dedication. Many Americans will die. It will be a glorious day for Allah and his followers. Remember, we can afford no mistakes and trust no one.”

  Abu left the group of about forty men behind. He walked back to his room, and Hasan quickly followed.

  “Hasan, assemble the team and bring them to me to look over after you have done so. Go,” Abu said.

  Abu walked over to his bag, took out another iPad, and fired it up.

  When the internet page he was searching for loaded, his eyes lit up. Finally, the rest of the world was talking. Everyone was talking. The world was stirring the pot, and right in the center of the chaos was the United States of America. Everyone had questions. Everyone wanted answers. The only thing everyone could agree on was simple: Japan’s prime minister was dead, and America was the prime suspect.

  Chapter 5

  After Abu finished his speech, they’d planned to take the men out for training. This was Hasan’s forte. He’d grown up in a boxing gym and taken other forms of martial arts as well. He was a second-degree black belt in jiu-jitsu and had won many competitions.

  This was different, though; he had never trained a whole battalion of men in hand-to-hand combat. Other than his younger brother, he had never trained anyone. Abu wanted the mindset of the men to change, and he wanted them to learn how to fight without using a weapon. Hasan had promised this would harden and strengthen the minds of the men too. They would no longer be peddlers, smugglers, or odd-end men. They would be soldiers.

  The men all loaded up and traveled out to an even more remote part of the mountains. Hasan wanted them to train at a higher altitude for better conditioning. High altitude training was known to boost oxygen-carrying red blood cells. Hasan had learned this when he was younger.

  Hasan stood in front of the group and started walking between the rows of men. “I hope you are well rested, as today’s training will be intense,” he said.

  “It is always intense,” one of the men called out, which lead to laughter amongst the group.

  “We will be the finest battle-ready unit in the world.” The men erupted into cheers.

  Hasan lead the men on a ten-mile run. After a brief rest and recovery period, the men started jiu-jitsu training. Each day of training, Hasan would teach a new skill that each of them would work to master.

  “Often in hand-to-hand combat, the fight ends up on the ground. Once on the ground, we want to avoid the bottom position. Inevitably, this is the position that we will find ourselves in today. I will teach you ways to defeat this position.”

  Hasan let one of the men climb on top of him in the mounted position. Next, he worked through several different ways that one could work back to a neutral position or even get to a dominant position.

  The men looked and saw vehicles approaching. “El Printo!” one of the men yelled.

  Hasan got to his feet and took notice. It was indeed El Printo, their secretive leader’s caravan. The men got back into formation and stood at attention.

  As the caravan came to a stop, El Printo and Abu stepped out of one of the vehicles. Both men moved through the lines of warriors and thanked each of them for their service.

  El Printo walked back to the front of the group. “Warriors, Allah is smiling down on us. The infidels will be destroyed!” The men erupted.

  “We will no longer sit back and take their bombings and their American sanctions on our goods. Allah has given us power and strength. He has declared us his chosen children. Allah is angry at America for their lies and their evil government. They have invaded many countries only to steal their resources, but no longer will we live in fear. This is our country. This is our land. We will finish the fight started by our brother Osama.”

  El Printo waited for the men to quiet once agai
n. “We will cut the head off the American snake, and we will destroy them once and for all! Tell me, how does the most powerful country in the world have so much debt? How does the most powerful country in the world have such a poor education system? How does the most powerful country in the world have so much unemployment? Because they have fooled so many! Their government is filled with corrupt men who try to rule the world with fear. Brothers, why does America get to decide who can have nuclear weapons? Allah did not make them ruler of men! Allah has made it our duty to rid the world of infidels. Sharia law will rule the world! Allah will see his people rule again!”

  El Printo patted Hasan on the back. “You are doing great work here with the men. I can see their strength. I can see your strength in them. Allah is pleased with you, brother. Peace be with you.”

  Hasan nodded but said nothing.

  El Printo and Abu climbed back into one of the vehicles and soon disappeared. The men remained in perfect formation.

  “El Printo is pleased with our work. Allah is pleased with our work. Let us press on.”

  The men went back to their stations, and Hasan continued the lesson. He moved in and out between each pair of men as they trained, giving instruction and, more importantly, praise when needed.

  After two hours of rigorous training, Hasan gave the men a thirty-minute break. Then it was on to weapons training. The weapon of choice was the AK-47, which was the number-one-selling gun in the world. The weapon was as destructive as it was reliable. It could still fire after being fully submerged in mud or water and required minimal maintenance.

  Hasan timed the men, as they had to fully assemble and disassemble their weapon in under two minutes. Next, they lined up for target practice and fired at objects that were one hundred, two hundred and four hundred yards away. This extended right to the edge of the weapon’s effective range.

  Two hours later, the men had completed their training and were en route back to the compound.

  Chapter 6

  I woke up early the next morning. No central AC and sunlight beaming through your tent will do that. I looked over at Miranda, and she was still dead to the world. She was even beautiful when she slept. I gently rubbed her face and few times. Then I pulled the blanket over her and gave her a light peck on the cheek. I pulled my cargo shorts on and quietly let myself out of the tent.

  The clean country air was astonishingly refreshing. As I looked across the street, I noticed how calm everything was. The river peacefully flowed and the water occasionally splashed into a tall rock formation that rose in the middle of the river. It was still too early for floaters, and this may have been the first time in my life that I truly appreciated the river and nature the way many others did.

  I smiled to myself, and all at once I remembered just how flipping cold that water was. I chuckled. That was one detail I’d forgotten to pass along to Miranda or the girls. I knew in a few hours I’d pay dearly for that omission.

  I walked over to our cooler and started gathering breakfast items. Hunger pangs had already started in my stomach. I cracked four eggs and got some bacon and sausage going on the Lil Smokey grill I’d brought from home. A handful of campers around the site began stirring as well.

  I’d told the chief that my cell phone would be completely off for the next several days, and, maybe for the first time ever, I meant that. I felt guilty—only a little, but guilty indeed. I owed my family a few days of undivided attention. I’d packed an old radio for music, and I finally found it tucked behind some boxes under a table. I plugged it in and thumbed the dial to 740 AM. This would be my only source for news for a few days. I sort of liked the idea that I’d be unplugged.

  I heard a tent unzip behind me; it was Paul.

  “Morning, old friend. Aren’t you up a little early?” I said.

  “Yeah, that damn sun is bright,” he said, and then he laughed. “A lot brighter than I remembered it being when we were younger.”

  “When we were younger, old friend, the only thing that bothered us was the lack of dominoes, girls, and football.”

  “I guess you have a point.”

  “At least I’m not the only one bothered by the sun now. Just wait until we hit this river. Nowhere to hide from Mr. Sun. There’s food ready, and I’m working on a pot of coffee now,” I said, pointing at it.

  I turned the volume up on the old radio as I heard the radio man say, “breaking news report.”

  “This is Charlie Ngin, live in Houston, Texas, reporting for CNN. The world is still in shock over the murder of Japan’s prime minister. Yesterday, at little after midnight, Akio Yoshida fell dead in Houston’s Chinatown as the world watched it via live streaming online. The group that aired the video has yet to be identified. Yoshida’s body was taken so that an autopsy can be performed, but so far this morning there are no new updates from that autopsy. All signs point to some type of heart attack.

  “CNN has also learned other world leaders who are here in Houston for the Religious Summit are in fear for their lives. Many of them are trying to make arrangements to leave, but no one knows who can be trusted, and everyone is a suspect. At this point, the United States Secret Service has them hunkered down at various unidentified locations around the city.

  “I am standing outside HPD headquarters which has become the defacto ground zero for the events that unfolded last night. Protests have already sprung up around Houston, with protesters asking for Islamic practitioners to be rounded up and shipped out of the country. Many of them believe an Islamic terror group is behind the murder. CNN has been told the Secret Service, FBI, CIA, and Homeland Security have sent officials here to Houston to begin an investigation. Houston’s Hobby Airport and George Bush Intercontinental are being searched by the FBI and Homeland Security. Everyone has a laundry list of questions, but right now no one seems to have any answers. So for now the world watches and waits.

  “President Wilson has released a statement condemning the attack and adamantly denouncing any American involvement. She also sent condolences to the people of Japan and Mr. Yoshida’s family. Of course the Republican Party has also released a statement reminding the American people how against this summit they had been. This is truly an event of epic proportions. Everywhere I’ve been around the city has just been chaotic. Numerous countries have threatened to take action against the U.S. if their leaders are harmed in any way. Officials say they are doing everything they can to protect them. Nightmare doesn’t begin to describe what this has turned into. People are afraid. And right now all we can do is wait and pray.

  “President Wilson is set to make a statement today at two p.m. EST. Again, this is Charlie Ngin reporting live from Houston, Texas.”

  I stared down at the radio. My heart raced. I rubbed my hands together. Both of my palms were sweaty. I looked over at Paul, whose eyes burned with anger. Behind that anger I could see that he was afraid. I was afraid. Paul’s tent opened again and DeLuca climbed out.

  The look on our faces must have spoken very loud and very concerning.

  “You guys look like you just heard the worst news of your lives. Everything okay?” DeLuca asked.

  We filled her in.

  Chapter 7

  Chief Hill had given me complete control over who I would hire to work with me in the Major Crimes Division. My team was nearly complete. The chief had the files on both of my recommendations—Michael Blasberg, a California native and a graduate of University of California, Irvine, and Lynn Jacey, aka Bubba, a Washington native and George Washington University graduate. Growing up, I was a fan of the crime drama In the Heat of the Night, and this Bubba reminding me of that character. He stood about six foot five and looked like he could bench press the entire weight room.

  The new hires were awaiting his final approval. I filled the team out with officers I felt were different than me but also experts in their field and freethinkers. Both graduated from top collegiate criminal justice programs. They’d be joining DeLuca, who’d graduated from John Jay, ea
sily recognized as the number one criminal justice program in the country, Fingers, my tech guy, and my longtime friend Paul. I was more than pleased with how my team had rounded out, and it looked like it couldn’t have come at a better time. I knew this approval process could take weeks. And with the current events, it would fall off everyone’s radar for sure. At least for the short term.

  “What are we going to do?” Paul asked.

  “For now, nothing. The FBI and Homeland Security doesn’t need or want our help I’m sure. You know those guys get touchy about local help. Besides, we’re on vacation right now,” I said.

  “Well, we sure as hell can’t sit around and pretend everything’s A-Okay when a goddamned nuke could be launched because of all this craziness,” Paul exclaimed.

  “Hey, I’m just as pissed and concerned as you are. Look, I’ll turn my cell phone on. If anyone wants our help, at least now they can reach me. Taking bets on whether or not we get that call. Any takers?”

  Neither Paul nor DeLuca took me up on my bet. I more than felt their concern, but right now there wasn’t much we could do.

  “Listen, if it will make you two happy, I’ll even text the chief to let him know we are available if he needs us. That better?”

  “Needs you for what, David?” Miranda said as she headed towards me.

  “Nothing. Let’s enjoy our mini-vacation, shall we?” I said, smiling. “I’m sure they’ll have that little confusion sorted out soon, and it’ll be just another story that was wildly blown out of proportion by the media.”

  Miranda stood frozen with a parental you’d better answer me look on her face, so I filled her in as well. “If you think staying here right now would be no worse than us being in Houston, okay. I trust your judgement,” she said.

  “Finally, someone on my side,” I echoed.

  “This could get bad real quick,” Paul called back.

  “I agree, old friend, but like I said, the FBI and the Secret Service sure as hell don’t want our help. And if they suddenly do, we go home immediately.”