Accident, my ass, he thought. Wolf killed them.
Not only had he lost three comrades, but their defeat had impinged upon his reputation as a leader.
A good leader takes responsibility, he thought. And holds people accountable.
Not to mention that he was now curious about the prowess of this Wolf. The fat American had extolled their adversary’s prowess and said not to underestimate this Wolf person. And now he’d proven his mettle a bit by besting three of the Lion Team.
Preetorius smiled slightly. He was actually looking forward to testing himself against this American Airborne Ranger warrior.
But first, they had to secure the damn artifact. Then Wolf would be dealt with appropriately. In a way, Preetorius hoped he would not give up this artifact easily. He and Henrico and Gidea, and Francois were running just ahead of the clock now. There was little time. They had to finish this mission and then make a hasty exit, perhaps to Canada or Mexico ASAP.
The fingers of his left hand caressed the K-bar which he’d affixed to the belt around his waist. He looked forward to using it on Wolf.
“Let’s do it,” he said. “Gidea and Henrico take the back door. Francois and I will hit the front.”
He shifted the van into drive and floored the accelerator.
Wolf thought he heard the sound of a vehicle accelerating momentarily, but it didn’t sound real close and it was hard to discern much detail over Kasey’s sobbing. Mac had taken her in his arms and she was crying against his shoulder. Wolf was glad the two of them had made amends before this tragedy. He was also wondering what had happened. Kasey had not been forthcoming with much in the way of information, other than saying Shemp was dead. The questions began to formulate in Wolf’s mind, and some of them caused some alarm bells to go off. He didn’t feel like intruding on Mac and Kasey in this moment, but this wasn’t the time to drop their guard, either.
In fact, he thought. It would be almost the perfect time for an attack.
But an attack from whom?
He suddenly noticed that Chad and Bonnie were standing off to the side with expressions of horror on their faces.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” the boy asked. He was starting to cry as well.
Wolf was just about to tell the babysitter to take him out of the room when he heard a crunching sound coming from the kitchen. His head swiveled toward it, as did Mac’s, and then the front door burst open with stunning impact, sending the door flying inward accompanied by a flurry of broken wood from the door jamb. Men were entering from both directions, each holding a semi-auto pistol in front of them at combat-ready position. They moved like pros, using that modified, Groucho Marx half-crouch shuffle, issuing commands of “Nobody move” in foreign-sounding English. They were all good-sized white guys and the one who’d come in the front was the big nurse who’d kicked them out of John Doe’s room.
This was all starting to come together now and Wolf wasn’t liking it one bit. Then, just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, another man entered who looked vaguely familiar. He certainly wasn’t commando material—doughy looking with a rotund middle, and neither was the one who waddled in behind him.
A chill went through Wolf as he saw who that was: Ex-Lieutenant Jack Cummins.
And the other doughboy was Jason Zerbe.
Another Mexican reunion, thought Wolf. But with a new Viper team.
After searching all of them, and finding Mac’s gun in his holster, they made everyone kneel in the center of the living room and told them to put their hands on top of their heads, with the exception of Kasey, whom they allowed to hold Chad. He buried his face against her, obviously terrified. One of the crew laughed.
“If you hurt them,” McNamara growled, “you ain’t gonna have enough rounds to keep me from tearing you head off.”
The man stepped forward and backhanded Mac in the face.
Wolf debated making a move but knew in this position it would be akin to suicide.
Zerbe stepped forward and grinned.
“Nice to see you two again,” he said, pausing to light up a cigarette. “Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” Turning, he motioned to Cummins. “Pull down all those window shades. We don’t want to take the chance on anybody seeing this little party.”
Wolf saw that Zerbe had a revolver tucked into the left side of his pants.
Cummins, who looked as white as sailor’s cap, waddled over to each window and pulled down the shades. It caused the room to darken slightly and Zerbe said, “Turn on the fucking lights.”
Cummins flipped the switch and then put a hand on his immensely distended gut.
“I gotta wait outside,” he said, his voice sounding like a whine. “My stomach’s bothering me.”
“When isn’t your stomach bothering you?” Zerbe said, his tone dripping with derision. “Go ahead, get the hell out of here and let us men do the work. We’ll come and get you when we have it.”
Have it?
Wolf wondered just what this meant. Were they talking about the bandito?
Cummins shuffled out the door and disappeared.
Déjà vu all over again, Wolf thought.
Zerbe leaned his head back and blew a smoke ring, and then looked down at Wolf.
“How about it, Stevie boy?” Zerbe said. “Which way is it gonna be? Easy or hard?”
Wolf tried to figure out a way to buy some time and also to separate some of the bad guys from the innocents. The military tactics that had been drilled into him always advised that if captured, the best chance for escape was at the earliest possible time. The longer it went on, the less chance you had.
But there were four guns being pointed at them and Zerbe was armed as well.
And none of us are, Wolf thought.
The best tactical plan he could come up with was to split their forces. If he could draw a couple of them away from here by leading them to his place, perhaps he could get the jump on them. It also might give Mac a chance to strike out. But he was at a supreme disadvantage with his daughter and grandson in harm’s way.
Still, if I know Mac, Wolf thought. He’s probably thinking the same way I am.
“What the hell do you want?” Wolf asked.
Zerbe blew another smoke ring. It floated upward toward the ceiling smoke detector. Maybe if that went off it would provide a diversion …
“You know what I want,” Zerbe said. “That fucking statue that Accondras had in Mexico. The one in his backpack.”
“The statue?” Wolf said, trying to sound confused. “Why?”
“That’s for me to know,” Zerbe said. “Now where is it?”
Wolf searched for something to say.
The big guy who’d played the nurse spoke up.
“Let me get it out of him,” he said. “It won’t take me any time at all.”
Zerbe seemed to contemplate this, then shook his head. He drew on the cigarette and released a cloudy breath as he spoke. “No, I think not. Mr. Wolf prides himself on being tough, and we are pressed for time. I believe it will go a lot quicker if we start with one of the less formidable subjects. Which one do you want? The child or one of the ladies?”
“Zerbe,” McNamara said. “You son of a bitch.”
Zerbe held up his index finger and waggled it dismissively.
“I’m not an unreasonable man,” he said. “I have no desire to see Luan here start chopping off fingers, or other parts.” He paused as if to let that sink in. “But, I’m also ready to do whatever it takes.” He grinned sardonically. “Just like in Mexico.”
“What’s all this about?” Wolf said, trying desperately to buy some more time. “At least tell me that.”
“You have no fucking idea,” Zerbe said. He blew out a plume of smoke. “Well, what’s it going to be?”
Wolf tried to glance at Mac, to signal him that he was going to try something, but the big nurse slapped at his face.
“Don’t look at each other,” the man said.
Wolf’s
mind raced with various scenarios, none of which seemed to have a snowball’s chance in hell of working.
“I’m waiting,” Zerbe said. The tip of his cigarette glowed to a bright red. “Ever seen an eyeball being used for an ashtray?”
“All right,” Wolf said. “I’ll give it to you.”
Zerbe’s smile widened. “Now we’re talking. You do that and I promise we’ll just tie all of you up and be on our way.”
Wolf didn’t believe that for a moment but pretended he did. He knew that Mac didn’t either, and also knew, through the gut instinct of combat brotherhood, that Mac knew Wolf was trying to split the enemy force.
“It’s in my apartment,” he said.
“Is it now?” Zerbe waggled his eyebrows. “And where exactly is that?”
“Above the garage. In the other building.”
“And where is it in there exactly?” Zerbe asked.
Wolf hesitated for a moment. “I’ve got a gun locker over there. It’s hidden. I’ll have to show you.”
Zerbe laughed. “Oh, come on.”
“No,” Wolf said. “It’s in there. But you won’t be able to open it without me. It’s a bio-lock. Requires my handprint to open, plus a combination.”
“How about I just cut your fucking hand off?” the big nurse said.
“Luan,” Zerbe said, “That would be messy and time consuming. Why don’t you escort Mr. Wolf over there and see if he’s telling the truth? If he’s not, then let me know and I can’t decide which of these pretty girls I want to let you start with.”
“You better not hurt my mommy,” Chad said.
Kasey put her hand over his mouth and pulled him closer to her breast.
He’s gonna be a Ranger someday, Wolf thought. Or maybe Special Forces, like his grandpa, if we can get out of this.
“May I stand?” Wolf asked.
Zerbe stepped back and tossed the cigarette down on the floor. He stepped on it and then stooped and picked it up.
He doesn’t want to leave his DNA, Wolf thought. That’s a sure sign they plan to kill us as soon as they have what they want.
“Rise, sir prince,” Zerbe said.
Wolf got up slowly and started to lower his hands, but Luan, the big nurse, punched him in the back.
“Keep your arms where they are,” he said.
As they walked toward the front door, he leaned closer. “Do you know that Amiri’s name means prince in Afrikaans?”
“Who the hell is that?” Wolf said, debating his chances of whirling and trying to strip the big asshole of his Glock. It was a long shot.
Too long, he decided, and kept heading for the door.
“You saw him in the hospital,” Luan said. “He was one of my men. The Lion Squad.”
The Lion Squad, Wolf thought. How trite. And hopefully, overrated.
“Oh yeah, he’s a prince all right,” Wolf said. Maybe if he could bait the big guy he’d stand a better chance. Or maybe that would just make him mad. “I suppose those other three weak sisters you sent after me on the freeway were lions, too?”
Luan hit him hard in the back.
“Shut up and keep walking,” Luan said. “It is bad enough that I have lost four of my comrades.”
Four? Did that mean that Amiri was no longer alive?
He must have killed his own man, Wolf thought. These guys are brutal.
Suddenly the door flew open and Cummins stuck his head in.
“Zerbe,” he said. “A car’s coming. I looked through the range finder. It’s the feds.”
“Shit,” Zerbe said. He dug into his pocket, removed a set of keys, and tossed them to Cummins. “Get the van out of sight on the other side of that other building and wait for us there. Hurry your fat as up.”
Cummins hurried to the van and slid in behind the wheel. He jammed the keys in the ignition and started the vehicle.
No lights, he told himself as he shifted into gear and floored the gas pedal. Can’t afford to let them see me pull out of here.
The van shot forward and he twisted the wheel to loop behind the big garage structure to his right. He kept going and the ride was a bit uneven, but he reached the other side of the structure and pulled up to the corner. A dust cloud was rising behind him.
Wait for us there, Zerbe had said.
Cummins had no doubt that he and the South Africans were going to kill everybody in that room once they had the bandito.
It was all about tying up those loose ends.
And I’m one of them, he thought. Once they have me identify the artifact, I’m toast.
Wait for us there.
Yeah, right, he thought. And they’ll probably get into a fire fight with those feds.
The realization came over him quickly: He had one chance and that was to run. He floored the van once more.
I owe nothing to Zerbe or any of the rest of them, he told himself. And he certainly wasn’t going to stick around to get killed pursuing some rich bastard’s obsession—a devil’s fancy. He made it out onto the road without any problem traveling over the uneven ground and saw the oncoming headlights were still about fifty feet away as he got onto the access road, switched on the van’s lights, and sped toward the highway.
There were two men seated in the oncoming dark sedan. It looked like a Crown Vic with U.S. Government plates.
It was them, all right. The feds.
As the two vehicles passed each other Cummins held his hand in front of his face, trying to make it look like a casual gesture, but realizing it probably looked like anything but that.
The feds went past him and he kept his eye on the side-view mirror and feeling his stomach roil until he saw them turn into McNamara’s driveway. A burning flood of bile snaked up his esophagus and flooded the back of his mouth before sliding back down. His throat burned.
Then he floored the gas pedal again. It was time to get the hell out of there, Zerbe and his band of killers be damned. He was going to drive straight to the hotel and grab everything out of the safe in Zerbe’s room, the cash he was going to use to pay off the mercs, both cell phones, and whatever else the son of a bitch had stuck in there. Hopefully, they’d get the damn artifact and kill Wolf and forget all about him. And with those FBI agents coming on the scene, who knew what was going to happen.
The chances of them coming after me are slim, he thought. But God help me if Wolf somehow survives.
He swallowed hard at that thought and steered the van onto the main highway and toward the hotel, feeling like he was running from the Devil himself.
Luan kept pushing him toward the door.
The feds, Wolf thought. This could either be the break they needed or a total disaster. If it was Special Agents Franker and Turner coming back for Round Three, they were walking into what could turn into a hell of a fire fight.
And one for which they were totally unprepared.
“There’s a dust cloud settling out there,” Luan said. “I think that fat fucker took off in the van.”
“Shit. Push that damn door closed,” Zerbe said. “And shut off the lights. As long as the van’s out of sight, and nobody in here makes a fucking sound, they’ll go away. We can deal with Cummins later.”
One of the other South Africans hit the switch, sending the room in semi-darkness.
“The door is broken,” Luan said. “They’ll notice it.”
Zerbe swore and then said, “Francois, go crouch by the door and lean against it. Keep it closed.”
The big guy on the far side of the room moved to that position like a trained bear.
“Now nobody make a sound,” Zerbe repeated. “And nobody move. Otherwise, you’re all going to be shot.”
The room was as silent as a melting ice cube.
Outside Wolf saw a pair of headlights pull up, and then extinguish. Next, the sound of a couple of car doors closing. It had to be them: Franker and Turner, the Penn and Teller of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. But what good were they in this situation? If this went bad, they’
d just be two more bodies to add to the crime scene.
He swallowed and waited.
The doorbell rang.
No one made a sound.
The doorbell rang again.
More silence.
A sharp knocking sounded, accompanied by a voice, Franker’s voice, saying, “Mr. McNamara. Mr. Wolf. This is the FBI. Open the door, please.”
Still, no one spoke.
“Look,” Franker said. “We know you’re in there. We saw the lights go off when we rolled up. Now if you don’t open the door and talk to us, we’ll be forced to call the local authorizes to assist us in a well-being check.”
“Luan,” Zerbe whispered. “Take him to the door. Wolf, you get rid of them. Otherwise you’re dead. Understand?”
Wolf nodded.
He walked to the door with Luan following close behind him, the gun pressed against the small of Wolf’s back. The room was almost a monochromic pattern of soft shadows of varying penumbras. When they got to the door, Luan grabbed Wolf’s shoulder and halted him. The big South African then stepped back at an angle away from the door and motioned for his compatriot, Francois, who was on all-fours, to move slightly away from the door so Wolf could open it. The big man on the floor set his weapon down in front of him, between his hands, and edged over a foot or so.
Wolf debated his chances of kicking the man in the face and diving for the gun, but then Francois placed his left hand over it.
A southpaw, Wolf thought.
“What’s it gonna be?” Franker called out.
“Just a moment,” Wolf yelled and took hold of the doorknob to pull the door open slightly. He wondered if he could somehow alert the two feds of the circumstances without the shit hitting the fan.
“Good evening, Special Agents,” he said, keeping his voice as even as he could. “What can I do for you?”
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