by Payne, T. L.
Isabella put a hand on his shoulder.
“We’ll find him. Stephens said she had someone guarding him that she trusted. When she’s finished with whatever she’s doing in there, she’ll tell them to let us go.”
“You trust her? She could be the mole for all we know. We’re screwed, Isabella. We’re trapped in here, and I have no idea what they’ve done with Cayden.”
“You have to calm down, Will. If they see you as a threat, we may never get out of here.”
“A threat. Did you not see what was happening out there? We were targeted by someone. They knew where we were. How? Phones aren’t working. The only people with radios that I’ve seen are the military. One of them is communicating with the people with the bombs.”
“All the more reason for you to calm down. Sit. Let’s talk this about this and find a way out of here,” Isabella said.
He couldn’t sit. His insides were a bundle of nerves. If he’d just hit the road the minute the military dropped them off at Isabella’s apartment, they’d be miles away from here by now. They could have found resources along the way. Sure, they’d have been wading through the toxic floodwater, but they’d have been much safer than the situation they now found themselves in.
Will paced the floor in front of the door. Every few minutes, he stopped and pressed his ear against it, listening for anyone in the corridor. After an hour or so, he heard keys jingle and a door open and close.
“Hello, I need to speak to someone. I need to find my son,” Will called through the door.
No one answered.
Desperation was about to overtake him when he heard a familiar voice on the other side of the office wall.
“Will? Is that you, Will?”
“Betley?” Will rushed over, pressing his ear against the wall to the adjoining office.
“Will. It’s Betley. Did Stephens find anything?”
“Betley, is Cayden with you? Have you seen him?”
“No. Not since they separated us. I’m sure he’s safe. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry. Why are they keeping him from me?”
“I don’t know. Most everyone is on perimeter defense, I think. There was an attack south of the base somewhere. I could hear it.
“You sure it wasn’t to the north. We were attacked. First at the gas station and then at an apartment building.”
“By gunmen?” Betley asked.
“No. Rocket-propelled grenades,” Isabella said.
“Was anyone injured? Are you both all right?” Betley asked.
“A soldier dove on top of me. I caught some glass in my cheek. He died.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she spoke.
“I’m sorry, Izzy,” Betley said. “Did Stephens find what she was looking for?”
“I don’t know. I think so. She went inside a building, and when she came out, we rushed back here,” Will said.
“That sounds like she did. She didn’t say anything?”
“No. We didn’t get a chance to talk to her. When we got back, they locked us in here,” Will said.
“What’s going to happen, Betley?” Isabella said.
“It’s going to be all right. Reinforcements are on their way from the north of the city. There were thousands of troops positioned to come in to help after the hurricane passed. Soldiers from Fort Hood will get here soon too. We just have to hold on until they arrive,” Betley said.
“Betley, Stephens said there could be someone on the inside working with the Chinese. If that’s the case, none of us are safe until they’re stopped,” Will said through the wall.
“Did Stephens know who it was?” Betley said.
“No. She was hoping the information on the flash drive would lead her to them.”
“If it has anything useful on it,” Betley said.
“Can’t you get us out of here, Betley? If they have what they want, they don’t need us anymore,” Will asked.
“I’m not really in any position to request anything, Will. I’m locked in here too.”
“They can’t still think you were working with Kim,” Isabella said.
“They’re being cautious. They need to isolate anyone that could be a threat right now and sort out the truth later.”
“You sure sound awful understanding for someone being accused of treason,” Will said.
“I know the truth, and right now, there’s nothing more I can do to clear my name. I have to trust Stephens and Sharp to figure it all out. If they don’t, it won’t matter.”
“Why are they keeping me from my son?” Will asked. “I’ve done nothing but cooperate.”
“Stephens is using him to gain your cooperation. If she has what she wants, then there is no reason to hold any of you now. As soon as they can, they’ll reunite you.”
A loud bang rattled windows around the complex. Will grabbed Isabella and dove to the ground, covering her with his body. It was followed by the sound of automatic gunfire. Will could hear yelling but couldn’t make out what was being said. He couldn’t be sure how close the explosion was to them, but he wasn’t just going to sit around and wait for bombs to drop on them. He had to find a way out of that room.
Will pushed himself off the floor and grabbed the straight-backed metal chair. He flung it against the wall, attempting to bust through the sheetrock. It barely dented the drywall. Unperturbed, Will gripped the seat back and jammed the metal legs into the hole over and over, trying to chip away and break through.
Isabella appeared beside him, a heavy-duty tape dispenser in hand. She repeatedly smashed it against the wall, widening the hole, but they were still no closer to getting out. Will turned and began kicking with the back of his boot.
The door opened, and Hollingsworth appeared. “Let’s move.”
“What’s happening out there?” Isabella asked.
“We have to move you,” Hollingsworth repeated as they stepped into the corridor.
“I need to find my son,” Will said, grabbing the soldier by the arm. “Tell me where my son is.”
“I don’t know, sir,” Hollingsworth said
“Find me someone who does then,” Will demanded.
“Everyone’s a little busy at the moment, sir. We’ll get you reunited with your son as soon as possible, but right now, we need to move to the interior of the base.”
“Where’s Stephens?”
“I can’t say.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I speak with Stephens,” Will insisted.
“That is not going to happen.”
“We had a deal. We helped her find what she was looking for. Now she needs to get us the hell out of Houston before it’s too late,” Will said.
Hollingsworth unlocked the door to where Betley was being held and gestured for him to follow.
What appeared to be automatic gunfire echoed through the corridor. A voice sounded over Hollingsworth’s radio, and he turned back. “I need you to go back inside for a moment.”
“Like hell,” Will said.
“Let’s go, Will,” Betley said, backing into the office. “It’s all right. Trust me.”
The soldier didn’t even wait to secure the door. As he ran off, Betley pushed open the door and stepped out.
“I have to find Cayden. Do you know your way around here, Betley?”
“They may have taken him over to the flight museum. He was pretty excited when they told him about it.”
“Show me,” Will said.
Twenty-One
Will
Day Six
Betley stopped at a single glass door on the south side of the building. He pushed it open slightly. “We’re going to take that walkway there on the west side of that single-story building. If the gate is closed near the road, you may have to jump it. Are you up to that, Isabella?” Betley asked.
She nodded, but her blank expression said she wasn’t all that sure.
“Are you not coming?” Isabella asked.
Betley pointed to his leg. “I’ll have to go aro
und. I can’t climb a fence.”
“You’ll need to hurry across the street and through the parking lot to that building on the other side.” He pointed to the Lone Star Flight Museum.
Will had never been there. He’d always meant to take Cayden but had never taken the time. According to Cayden, the flight museum was home to some forty historic aircraft. He’d been particularly interested in the Aviation Learning Center’s simulator bay. Melanie had discussed allowing him to take one of the warbird flights they offered. Will had complained that it would be too expensive. He could still recall the disappointment on both their faces. He’d made so many mistakes in his marriage and with Cayden. He’d give anything to be able to go back to that moment and do things differently, but he couldn’t. All he could do is try to do right by Cayden now. At the moment, Will was failing him.
“Are you sure they took him to the museum?” Will asked.
“Not for certain. He asked if he could go.”
Another round of guilt surface. He should have taken him instead of spending so much time working.
“The soldiers said they didn’t have permission to leave the building, but if they moved him, my bet it would there,” Betley said.
“I guess it is a place to start.”
“All right. Will, you’re going to go first? If the gate is open, hurry on across the street. If it isn’t, wait for me. I’ll help you both over.”
Will stepped in front of Betley and peered around the door frame. He looked to his left and then right, surprised no one was out there. Sandbags had been stacked in a U-shape about ten feet from the door. He expected to see soldiers guarding all the exits, but there were none at this door. Will looked back and gave a nod to Isabella before taking off toward the walkway. He was five feet away from the Maritime Safety and Security Team (MSST) building when an explosion in the distance sent him scrambling for cover. An enormous cloud of black smoke erupted to the north. Someone was attacking the checkpoint at the Sam Houston Freeway.
Will was just getting to his feet when Isabella and Betley appeared. Betley grimaced as he grabbed Will under the arm and hauled him to his feet. None of them were in any condition to be running for their lives, but Will couldn’t let that stop him.
“They’re getting closer,” Isabella said.
Will took her hand. “We need to go before all hell breaks loose.”
They took off down the walkway, heading for the museum. As they walked by the MSST, Will noticed that the bays where the twenty-five-foot response boats were usually kept were empty. They might have been deployed to aid in search and rescue efforts, but Will hadn’t seen any of that near Isabella’s apartment.
Will glanced back. Betley was lagging behind. Will weighed the risk of him slowing them down against not knowing his way around the base. That one detail could mean the difference between getting out or not. Will released Isabella’s hand and ran back to Betley. He wrapped his arm around the man’s waist and helped him to the fence bordering the street. Automatic rifle fire could be heard plainly now. It was some way off, but still too close for Will.
Isabella ran ahead and pushed open an unlocked gate. She waited, and when they reached her, she took Betley’s arm, and the two of them helped him across the street. The parking lot was full of rather old looking, olive drab-colored army trucks and desert sand-colored containers.
“We need a vehicle,” she said as they reached the parking lot. “Stephens promised a vehicle to get you and Cayden to your sister’s.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen now. We can’t risk going back to find her,” Will said.
She released her grip on Betley’s arm and stopped walking. “But she promised. She said if I helped her, she’d make sure you got there.”
“It’s okay, Isabella. We’ll find another way. I’ll find one somewhere. Right now, we just need to get out of here,” Will said.
“Why can’t we just take one of these?” she asked.
“Because they would make us a target. In case you haven’t noticed, those assholes are going after military assets. We want to stay under the radar, at least until we can score some weapons,” Betley said.
By the time they reached the museum, the gunfire and explosions had stopped. Will glanced back at the ball of smoke to their north as he moved around another stack of sandbags, pushed open the double doors, and stepped into the flight museum’s arrival hall. The nearly three-story ceiling made the space feel enormous. The circular welcome desk that once greeted guests now sat empty. To their right was the gift shop filled with plane memorabilia, and on the left was a café devoid of tourists. At the end of the long hall, the orientation theater ticket booth was empty. They searched exhibit rooms and galleries lined with photos of several Apollo astronauts, both Presidents Bush forty-one and Bush forty-three, Gene Autry, Bessie Coleman—the first African-American female to receive a pilot’s license—and other Texans. Next, they checked classrooms, the flight academy, and both hangars filled with vintage airplanes without finding Cayden. The building had been completely evacuated.
They moved through the hanger filled with vintage aircraft and out the east side door without seeing anyone. He took in the area outside the hangar. He was beyond frantic. Will pressed his fists against his temples. “Where would they have taken him?”
Betley rubbed his forehead and looked across the runway where old and new planes sat uselessly. “We have to go back, Will. We have to find Stephens. She’ll be in communication with McKinney, Lieutenant McKinney, the one who is guarding Cayden.”
“Damn! Damn! Damn!” We don’t have time for this.” Will pounded his fists against his head in frustration. Isabella grabbed his arm and turned him toward the front the MTTS building. “We have to find Stephens.”
Will pulled his arm back and stared at her. “You should go. You and Betley should take off, get far away from here,” he said, pulling open the door stepping back inside the museum.
Isabella grabbed the door and held it open. “I’m not leaving you. I’m going to help you find Cayden. We’ll all leave here together, right, Betley?”
Betley gave a slight nod. He didn’t owe Will anything but he doubted the man could make it very far on his own. He’d taken quite a beating and lost a lot of blood from the stab wound to his thigh.
If Will was honest with himself, he had to admit he needed them. He knew that he stood little chance to find Cayden and make it away from the city without help.
“Okay. Let’s hurry,” Will said, taking hold of Betley’s arm.
Will listened for the sound of gunfire, relieved when he heard none. Maybe it had been a small attack on the checkpoint that they’d been able to quickly repel. Maybe he wasn’t out of time, but the pressure of the ticking clock had been building ever since the moment the lights went out. He wondered when, if ever, he would be safe enough that he didn’t feel that time was running out.
Will heard it seconds before he felt it and turned his head slightly, listening at first to what sounded like the whine of a jet coming in hot and then the concussive boom when whatever it was hit the building. He grabbed Isabella’s hand and pulled her to the floor. The ground shook. Smoke bellowed from the gaping hole in the side of the building. Fragments of concrete and metal rained down around them. It was pitch black, and thick smoke choked Will’s lungs.
“We have to get out of here,” Will yelled.
He could barely see Betley. Isabella stood and grabbed Betley’s arm. The three moved toward the arrival hall and the exit doors, but the smoke was too thick. “This way,” Will said, taking Betley from her and leading them toward the Waltrip hangar and out the doors and making it out onto the walkway just as a second explosion rocked the building. Will was now desperate to find Cayden. Panic was clouding his judgment. Not knowing where his son was the most excruciating experience of his life.
“Where the hell is my son?!” Will screamed.
“We have to find Stephens,” Betley said, taking off across the par
king lot.
Will’s stomach tightened. Stephens could be anywhere. Cayden could be anywhere. He prayed he got to him in time. Will prayed. He prayed like he’d done that night as he held Melanie’s hand. He begged God to help him find his son before it was too late.
Will ran back to the Coast Guard building and flung back the door. “Hurry!” he yelled, fighting the urge to leave them both behind. Isabella’s face was black with dust from the explosion except where the tears streamed down her cheeks. He was grateful they’d made it this far. Cayden had experienced enough loss in his short life.
“This way,” Betley said as he led them down a hall to their right.
Two soldiers ran past them, and a second later, Stephens appeared in the doorway down the corridor. “Down here,” she called.
A lone laptop still sat on the table, open and booted up with a spreadsheet displayed. Betley slid into the chair in front of the computer and ran his finger over the screen. “I knew it,” he said. “I knew they were planning something and not running drugs up across the border.”
Will stared over Betley’s shoulder at the screen. “It’s an inventory?”
“Yes,” Stephens said as she walked up behind him. She slammed the laptop closed. “It’s classified.”
“How is that working? I thought all electronics were fried,” Isabella said, pointing to the computer.
“EMP hardening. Lots of technical stuff you wouldn’t understand,” Stephens said.
Isabella put her hands on her hips. “Really?”
Stephens’ facial expression softened. She tossed her head back slightly. “These are special EMP shielded rooms.” Stephens pointed over her shoulder. “That door is an EMP protected double door entry. No cables or lines come into this room. The walls are like a giant Faraday cage.”