Web of Justice

by J J Miller

  I pulled back and listened for Lund to stir. Nothing.

  I was about to tell Jack to cover me when I heard what sounded like a very powerful motocross bike kick to life. Half a second later, its engine screamed under the throttle and the volume dampened quickly.

  Snow mobile. Lund’s making a run for it.

  I launched down the passageway in pursuit. At the far end of the house a door led into a large shed that opened out onto the snow. We got there just in time to see the tail light of Lund’s sled race into the pine forest and climb further up the mountain.

  “He’s going to kill her,” I shouted.

  There was another snow mobile in the shed. A Polaris RMK—a beast of a machine. Growing up in Idaho, I’d done many a snow mobile trip into the back country with my buddies to ski untracked powder. I jumped on, but the ignition was missing its keys.

  Damn it!

  I quickly hopped off the machine, lifted its plastic hood, yanked the ignition plug out, and dropped the hood back into place. I then hopped back on, pulled the choke switch out and ripped away at the pull cord. The Polaris snarled to life. I gave it some throttle and turned to Jake.

  “Hop on,” I said.

  But he shook his head.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he shouted and ran out the door into the snow. Straight for the chopper.

  I wrenched the throttle and the Polaris leapt out of the shed like Secretariat. I flicked the lights on and pointed the sled into Lund’s tracks. It was a hell of a machine, and it drove the belt with ferocious power. As I opened it up, it bucked forward and spat out rooster tails of powder.

  Lund’s tracks weaved upwards and across. I could see he was following a trail that had been used several times. I wondered how Lund knew it was me, opening fire like that and running. I guessed I was on the short list of people who’d be sneaking into his house in the remote Montana woods.

  The track flattened as it crossed a wide snowfield then turned upward again into a steep climb and through another section of trees. Just as I reached the woods, I heard the sound of a chopper coming up loud and low behind me. It passed overhead and continued climbing, skimming over the trees.

  I came to another clearing. We must have climbed fifteen hundred feet at least. Up ahead against the ridge line I saw the chopper bank around.

  Three shots rang out. It was Lund firing at Jack.

  Suddenly the chopper lit up with red smoke. Initially, I thought the bullets had found their mark, but then I saw a red light leave the chopper and fall down onto the mountain. It was a flare. Jack was telling me where Lund was. I hit the throttle hard again and rode the machine as fast as I could. Above the noise of the sled I heard more gunfire. Jack wasn’t just playing sitting duck, he was shooting back.

  Just as I was thinking Jack should pull back, the chopper made a sudden turn. The tone of its engine changed, and I saw smoke pouring out of the rear as the machine dipped awkwardly down. This time it wasn’t a flare. Two seconds later, the craft dropped rapidly behind the far side of the ridge. I didn’t have to be an expert on piloting to know Jack was struggling to control her.

  Ten seconds later, I heard a sickening thud. Then came a powerful blast and a flash of light before smoke erupted high above the ridge line.

  I was stunned momentarily. The idea that Jack was now dead was not something I could quickly dispel from my mind. But he’d risked his life to guide me towards Lund, and possibly Bella. I had to get there as fast as I could. I’d go and look for Jack as soon as I was sure Bella was safe and sound and I’d broken every bone in Lund’s body.

  The mountain up ahead was dark. There was no sign of Lund’s taillight now. I was about two hundred yards from where Jack dropped the flare when I saw a muzzle flash and heard a bullet tear through the air about three feet away. I let go of the throttle and rolled into the snow. Lund fired a few more shots at me, but his aim was stray. Away from the sled’s lights, Lund could not see me. I moved into a copse of trees to my right that extended almost all the way to where Lund was. The trees were thin, and I realized we were almost at the tree line, the altitude at which trees stop growing. That meant we were about nine-thousand feet up. The snow was fresh and deep here too, and walking even a short distance was physically taxing. But I forged on, hunched over, and got to the refuge of the trees as quickly as I could.

  I keep my eyes fixed on Lund’s position as I darted from tree to tree, pistol at the ready. Lund was not going to be taking any more pot shots at me without getting some heat in return. But as I climbed higher, I was not fired upon. And that made me worry and want to run to Bella as fast as I could, cover be damned.

  For a second, I wondered whether Lund would get back on his sled and race off. Perhaps Bella’s location was much further ahead. It was almost a habit now—no matter how close I thought I was getting to my daughter, there was a nagging feeling that she was only pulling further away. The feeling told me I was utterly useless to her, and that the idea I could protect her, save her, had always been an idiotic delusion serving nothing but my ego.

  I was breathing heavily. Once or twice I became extremely light-headed and short of breath. It was the altitude. Thankfully, the dizzy spells were short lived, and I was able to keep moving steadily. Soon my eyes began to make out the shape of a small cabin up ahead.

  “Bella!” I said to myself and trudged on as silently as I could. As I neared the cabin, it became obvious that Lund was not standing guard or waiting to pick me off. He had either escaped, or he was inside.

  The thought of him hurting Bella right now was so horrifying that I almost broke cover and made a final headlong dash. But I kept control and reached the cabin unchallenged. My greatest risk was that my heavy breathing would give me away. I got it under control as I moved carefully toward the front of the structure. When I reached the corner, I heard Lund’s voice for the first time.

  “Come in, Captain Madison. Let me assure you, there is no way you can shoot me without me seeing you first. I have a gun to your daughter’s head. And I will pull the trigger unless you signal your immediate cooperation.”

  Lund’s voice was hoarse, and he coughed twice as he got the words out. I remembered what Charlie had told me about bulimia affecting the voice. Well, I’d be only too happy to see him choke on his words.

  I peered around the corner to check out the entrance. The windows on either side of the central door were bordered up. The only way to see in was by going through the door.

  “Madison! I know you’re there!”

  “Alright, alright. I’m coming in.”

  I stepped square into the door frame with the gun in my right hand hanging next to my thigh.

  “Drop it,” said Lund.

  There was Bella crouched on the ground with her head resting back against the cabin wall. She looked beyond terrified, shaking with cold and fear. And there was Lund, seated on a chair beside her with his gun pressed to my daughter’s temple. I considered whether I could draw quickly now to put a bullet in Lund’s brain, weighing my speed and accuracy against his reflexes. If I was holding my service weapon, I may not have thought about it too much. But this Springfield was unfamiliar. I hadn’t fired it once, and I couldn’t take the risk of missing.

  I let my gun fall to the floor, thinking desperately that there still had to be some way out of this. There had to be some way to appeal to Lund’s humanity. But I knew I was kidding myself. Maybe if I got close enough I could... I took a step toward Lund.

  “Stay where you are,” he said with a clip. The force of his speech prompted yet another cough.

  My eyes shifted to an old Louis Vuitton trunk sitting on the floor to my left.

  Lund laughed.

  “Your daughter travels in style, Madison. Limousines, Learjets and Louis Vuitton. It’s a family heirloom handed down from my grandfather. Nothing but the best for your little Instagram star. She was carry-on not check-in, of course.”

  My breathing grew rapid and my chest heaved. The outrag
e of him shoving her in that trunk. I wanted to leap across and lock my hands around his neck. I blocked out the thought of Bella crammed inside the trunk, frightened to death and fighting for air. It took all my restraint to address Lund in a calm, rational manner. The imperative was to engage him in a conversation, one that could hopefully become a negotiation.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on here, Victor.”

  “Oh, yes you do.”

  “I’m not talking about Afghanistan, because if you wanted to hurt me, why wait til now? You’ve had years to get your vengeance.”

  “The mission to make you pay is a recent one. The product of fate. I was busy with my other projects, and you just happened to walk into my web, so to speak. It was all quite serendipitous really.”

  “So I distracted you from your killing spree?”

  “Well, first you appeared, then your little slut caught my attention, and it seemed that the planets had just aligned. Imagine my surprise when I found out you are not only a murderer, but you are also quite happy to prostitute your daughter on social media.”

  “I always warned my wife there would be hideous creeps following our daughter—turns out I was right.”

  Diplomacy be damned.

  “Who’s the creep here, Madison? I have used my money and influence to promote YouTube creators who enrich America’s youth, both spiritually and creatively. And I have removed a few whose only mission in life was to degrade the minds and morals of this country’s children.”

  I was reminded of when Lund accosted me outside Bagram Air Base all those years ago. Back then he was merely a zealot. Now it seemed, he’d drifted into madness.

  “I didn’t think God bestowed the right on anyone to act as judge and jury in His name.”

  “With a reprobate like Luke Jameson peddling a life of strippers and lies, I don’t need permission to dispense divine justice. He didn’t just turn away from God; he mocked Him.”

  “So he committed the crime of apostasy? That’s why you killed him? That’s straight out of the Taliban’s playbook. I’m surprised you didn’t stone him to death.”

  “Very funny, Madison. But your attitude doesn’t surprise me in the least. You are also a problematic heathen who is completely ignorant of the moral havoc you wreaked as a soldier, a father and a lawyer.”

  “What, defending an innocent young man who is now sitting in death row for the murder you committed?”

  “Unfortunately, to carry out my calling obliged me to take a few casualties. Cracking eggs to make omelets, as they say. But my understanding is that Demarco Torrell has made peace with God and himself. So I guess I did him a favor. His life would have remained meaningless had it not been for Francine’s intervention.”

  “Was that under your instruction?”

  “Why yes. I needed a believer if my plan was to work. And it did, beautifully.”

  “He’s a seventeen-year-old boy locked up in San Quentin.”

  “Yes, and he’ll die with a heart devoted to God. A true martyr.”

  I had to refrain from flat-out abusing him. I wanted to call him every name under the sun, but it was clear I was confronting a man who was thoroughly consumed by a belief of his own making. God and religion were simply an excuse, a package in which he boxed his toxic view of humanity and his role within it.

  “What about Toby Connors? What was his moral crime?”

  Lund scoffed as though I’d complained about there being one cloud in an otherwise clear sky.

  “I told you there had to be sacrifices.”

  “You’re doing God’s work? Really? You harangued us for civilian casualties in Afghanistan yet you’re totally okay with it when it suits you.”

  He shrugged. “Call it a necessary cost in the war against evil. That is the only war that is acceptable. Not the bloody invasion and occupancy of a weak country, which is what you were part of. That is just plain bullying. But we have a problem in this country and you’re so caught up in your own affairs that you don’t even realize your dereliction of parenting has been a huge contributing factor. Don’t kid yourself, your daughter is doing what so many other seven-year-old girls are doing—she is a vehicle for her mother’s avarice and her father’s moral sloth.”

  “So we just happened to cross paths over the Torrell case?”

  “Fate brought us together. Or, as I see it, God did.”

  “Not to mention Bianca Vanek.”

  Lund started and went to speak, but paused. It was silent long enough for me to know that even the mention of her name was a stab to his heart.

  “Yes,” he said, lowering his eyes briefly before directing a hateful glare back at me. “Bianca. She was just another civilian casualty to you and the military. She was just a...”

  “She was pregnant.”

  Again there was that slight twitch in his expression—another blow he did not see coming.

  “With your child.”

  “Yes. That’s right. A girl. She would have been ten years old if she were alive today.” Lund sighed deeply. “You see, Madison? Do you see what you have done?”

  “Victor, I did not kill your girlfriend.”

  “Oh yes you did. And she wasn’t just my girlfriend, she was the love of my life.”

  “How can you dispute the fact that Bianca was killed by the Taliban? Her own family accepted that that was the truth. There was no cover up about her death.”

  “Bullshit. The US military closed ranks around your unit and lied to Bianca’s family, to the Afghan people and to me. Bati Kot wasn’t a firefight—it was a civilian massacre plain and simple.”

  I hadn’t meant to get a rise out of Lund but I had. His blood was boiling. Part of me was glad just to see him hurting. I couldn’t have hated a man any more than I did him, the sad fucking hypocrite.

  “Victor, Bianca Vanek died from two bullets shot from an AK-47. She was killed by an enemy fighter. An enemy of the United States who fired on my unit. Yet you choose to put the blame entirely on us.”

  “What do you want me say, Madison? Thank you for your service?”

  Lund shifted in his seat, shrugged his shoulders, and straightened his back. “Now, enough talk. It’s time to prosecute this mission once and for all. Now that I can watch you feel the pain that I felt, we’re all set.”

  “Victor, no. This is not the way.”

  “This is the way, Madison. It’s my way. It’s God’s way. You have brought this upon yourself.”

  I shook my head.

  “No. This hell is all your own making. You have infected the world with your own demented actions, not cleansed it. She is an innocent little girl!”

  “Okay,” Lund said, shaking his head, making it clear my words were not reaching him. “Enough of your cheap words, Madison. It’s time for you and you daughter to die. But I will leave the choice up to you, Madison. Who should I shoot first—you or her?”

  Given such a horrific choice, I froze mentally. What was worse—watching my own child die or forcing her to see me die?

  Lund looked at his watch.

  “You have ten seconds. Starting now.”

  “Me!” I cried. “Let her go, for God’s sake, Victor.” I hoped that my words could stop him from pointing the gun at Bella and get her out of the firing line, if only for a few seconds. Lund pulled the gun from Bella’s head and turned it on me.

  “As you wish. You first. But your daughter will be joining you presently, I can assure you of that.”

  I had to make a move. I had to charge him. But at four yards, I presented a big target. He couldn’t miss. I was sure to take a bullet, maybe two, but if I crouched, changed angle and sprinted, I might just get my hands on him. If I died at least I died trying.

  “Lund, can you at least let me hold my daughter one last time? I’m begging you.”

  I took a half step towards him.

  “Stay where you are!” he shouted fiercely and pointed the gun between my eyes. “No, Madison. This is it. No last requests. No deals. No
talking your way out. Bianca never had that luxury. You get no say in how your die. That pleasure belongs to me.”

  His arm straightened. He took aim at my heart.

  I was still just four yards away. It seemed like a mile.

  “Daddy!” Bella cried, beyond distraught.

  “Bella. Close your eyes,” I said. “Please, close your eyes.”

  She shut them tight and tucked her head against the wall. Without betraying any movement to Lund, I visualized my attack. Crouch, step and sprint like hell.

  “Bella, my darling. I love you with all my heart. And I am so proud of you. I will always be with you, my precious. Always. Please don’t ever forget that.”

  Lund was smiling. He tilted his head. His lips went taut. Then his eyes hardened with intent. I had to go.

  Now!

  The instant I moved a deafening shot rang out with concussive force. But I felt no pain. It must take a second to come on, I thought, confused.

  Poised to launch at Lund, I froze. A dark spot had appeared on his forehead. Then drop of blood began to form there. Another shot exploded. Lund’s jacket compressed—right over his heart—and he collapsed forward to the ground.

  I turned around to see Jack standing in the doorway wondering if he should put a few more bullets into Lund’s body for good measure.

  I swooped on Bella and put my arms around her.

  “Bella. My darling. It’s okay. I’m okay.” She lifted her face to me and then immediately buried it in my chest and cried. Her body felt so cold. I sat on the chair Lund had occupied, lifting Bella up onto my lap and holding her tight. I unzipped my jacket and wrapped it around her.