by Chris Pike
He pulled out a map of Texas, shook it open, and placed it on his desk. His eyes gravitated to the red circle around Hemphill, Texas.
Burkov, who fancied himself an expert on American culture, had read about the rednecks of East Texas. Backwoods, uneducated hillbillies who brewed moonshine. Foul tasting stuff no doubt, unlike the vodka Burkov loved. He scoffed at the American culture. Fools they were, no pride in their homeland, crybabies who were offended by the least transgression, and slaves to their materialistic culture.
It was time now for action, the brainchild of Burkov, one he’d envisioned for years. It relied on an EMP weapon the Russians had tested on a remote area of their own country, away from the prying eyes of the world. Thousands had died, but such was the way of progress when a vital test was needed to protect the motherland.
Burkov opened a false bottom of his desk and reached for the vodka. He opened the bottle and poured himself a drink in celebration. He leaned back in his chair and thumped his boots on the desk, took a swallow of the vodka, and savored the flavor, letting it soothe his nerves. He needed some liquid bravery before he called his general, arguably one of the most ruthless men in Russia.
Burkov ran a hand over his chin. His enemies, along with those who knew too much, had disappeared one by one, and if everything went his way, he’d be climbing the ranks, and on his way to becoming a general. He’d be a hero and the one recognized as saving his beloved Russia.
Taking the last swallow of the drink, Burkov put away the bottle. He reached for the phone, punched in a few numbers and waited.
A female voice answered. “Mikhail? Is that you?”
“It is.”
“I thought it was your number.”
“Anastasia, how you are my dear?” Burkov feigned interest in the General’s plain looking daughter who he considered a necessary pawn in his quest for higher office.
Giggling followed. “I’m fine. Are you coming to see me?”
“Hopefully tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“Would you be so kind to make a dinner reservation for us at our special restaurant?”
“I’ll make the call straight away.” Anastasia’s heart was beating fast. She hesitated when she said, “My apartment is nearby.”
“You read my mind.” Burkov’s voice was smooth and reassuring, a technique he learned to satisfy the extremely needy and clingy General’s daughter. What Anastasia didn’t know was that after his required performance, which probably wouldn’t take more than a few minutes at the max, he’d be on his way to a more worthy and desirable woman.
“Anastasia, I need to speak to General Shuvalov. Put me through to him.” Burkov’s tone had changed from love-smitten suitor to a by-the-book military man.
Sensing their flirting was over, Anastasia answered in a professional voice. “One moment please.”
Burkov knew the drill: Call the General then be put on hold for an indeterminate amount of time, obviously a power play Shuvalov used to show his authority. Like a good soldier, Mikhail played along.
Finally, the line clicked on.
“Colonel Burkov,” Shuvalov’s voice boomed, “it is good to hear from you. My time is short so get to the point.”
Burkov chose his words carefully. “It is time for Operation Spindletop.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. The production numbers don’t lie.”
“Who else knows about this?”
“Only you and I.”
“Excellent. You’ve taken care of all the loose ends?”
“Of course.”
“Very good,” Shuvalov said. “I will call an emergency meeting to finalize the logistics for the operation. Pack your bags and be in Moscow tomorrow.”
“It will be my pleasure,” Burkov said. He set the handset of the old rotary phone onto the switch hook, clicking the phone off.
He leaned back from the desk and clasped his hands around the back of his head. This moment had been a long time coming, requiring years of expert maneuvering in the political circles of the military. Having the General’s daughter tied around his little finger didn’t hurt either.
He had risen through the ranks through sheer cunning and he wasn’t about to stop at colonel.
America would be next for him to conquer. He’d become a hero to Mother Russia. There’d be parades and babies to kiss, women would fawn over him, and the rank of general would be within his grasp.
Texas, and all the oil production, would be his first conquest. Next would be Alaska and all her spoils of the highly productive North Slope.
Americans. Burkov scoffed.
They wouldn’t even know what hit them.
Chapter 1
Current Day
Padre Island, Texas
“Are you ready?” Nico Bell asked.
Kate Chandler was cleaning up their campsite located above the high tide line and nestled near the sandy dunes. “I think so,” she answered. “I’m a little nervous, that’s all.”
“That’s to be expected. You haven’t seen your parents in over two years.”
“I suppose so,” Kate said. “That, and the fact you could’ve died last night. You scared me half to death, Nico. I thought I was going to lose you.”
“If I didn’t say thank you for saving my life, I’m saying it now.”
Nico had escaped with his life after being stung by a Portuguese Man ‘o War while swimming in the shallow beach waters of Padre Island. Highly allergic to any type of stinging insect, Nico didn’t know the Man ‘o War was also on the list. Fortunately, he had an Epipen with him, and with Kate’s help, he survived the sting. She had implored him to go to a hospital for further treatment, but without any type of transportation other than a helicopter – which Kate couldn’t fly – the best she could do was to keep him warm and hydrated during the night.
“How are you feeling?” Kate asked. She reached up to brush a strand of hair out of Nico’s face.
“I feel fine,” Nico said. With a hint of mischievousness, he rubbed his leg with an exaggerated movement. “My leg hurts where you stabbed me with the Epipen.”
“You were about to die,” Kate said, somewhat aggravated. “I’ve never given anyone a shot before. I didn’t know how hard to stick the needle in you.” She moved closer to Nico and glanced at his leg. “I can tell you that you do have thick skin.”
Nico laughed. “Having a thick skin comes in handy at times.”
“And a thick skull,” Kate added. She playfully rapped her knuckles on his head.
Nico scanned the campsite, making sure they hadn’t left anything of value. After a meager breakfast, he packed the tent while Kate cleaned the campsite, leaving no trace they had been there.
“Come on,” Nico said. “Time to go.”
“You go on ahead. I need to do my business.”
“Business?” Nico scratched his head. “Oh, yeah, right. I’ll meet you at the helicopter in a few minutes. You know where it is, right?”
“I remember. Go to the sign up there,” Kate pointed to the large sign spelling out beach rules, “then hang a right on the blacktop.”
“Reload can come with me,” Nico said.
Hearing his name, the big dog cocked his head and waited for instruction.
Kate waved him off. “He’ll want to stay with me.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.
Nico slung his backpack over his shoulder. “See you in a few minutes.” He headed to where he had parked the helicopter on the blacktop located on the other side of the sand dunes. He hadn’t checked on the helicopter since he had left it there the day before, figuring there weren’t many people who knew how to fly one. He had locked the doors, not that it would stop a determined thief because the doors were easy to pick, yet he had made sure not to leave anything of value in the cockpit to tempt anyone.
Kate tracked Nico as he walked, and when he reached the break in the dunes where the blackt
op was, he waved to her. She returned the wave, and once Nico was out of sight, she disappeared into the dunes, searching for a secluded place.
The wind blew over the beach and the dunes, carrying with it the peculiar smell of the salty ocean and of the sea creatures inhabiting it. The sound of tumbling waves spilling ashore then fading away washed over the beach, and Kate relished the comforting sound.
Reload trotted happily alongside Kate, his nose held high and twitching, sniffing sea grass and shells bleached white by the sun. The beach had been a new experience for him, and had stimulated his senses with new smells of the ocean and the sea creatures, and other animals that lived off the land.
The dunes had their own odors of scurrying rodents and crabs.
Reload sniffed where several seagulls had landed. A spotted ground squirrel had left its scent also. He nosed the paw prints of a coyote who had crossed the dunes during the night.
After Kate finished her business, she poured bottled water on her hands and washed them the best she could. Taking a bowl out of her backpack, she poured the remaining water for Reload. He lapped it thirstily. After stowing the bowl, she dusted the sand from her backpack. “Come on, Reload. Let’s go.”
The big dog wagged his tail and loped in front of her. Spying a piece of driftwood, Reload picked it up in his mouth, and playfully loped back to Kate, dropping the driftwood at her feet.
“Wanna play?”
Reload thumped his tail, and stood back eagerly waiting for Kate to toss it.
She threw the driftwood. “Go get it!”
Legs stretching out, Reload ran close to the ground, kicking up sand, and when he came to the driftwood, he skidded to a stop and took it in his mouth.
Odd scents wafted by him on a salty breeze. He lifted his snout, reading the meaning of the odors. Scents of human desperation and danger came to him, and intermingled in those scents were those of Nico.
Reload’s ruff bristled. He dropped the driftwood and growled low in his throat, eyes sweeping over the beach trying to find the men associated with the scents.
Standing yards back from Reload, Kate had expected him to return the driftwood to her. She put her hands to her mouth to call him back, but before she did she was struck by his odd body posture.
His legs were straight, ears cocked, and he was leaning forward. She had seen the posture before, where every sense of Reload’s was on high alert.
Something wasn’t right.
Chapter 2
Crouched over, Kate ran to Reload. She knelt and put her hand on his collar. “Shhh,” she whispered, leading him to a concealed spot in the sand dunes. “Quiet.”
Kate listened.
The wind brushed the tall sea grass growing on the dunes. Particles of loose sand blew in waves, rippling over the dunes, and a seagull squawked overhead.
Kate tapped Reload on the shoulder to get his attention. “Stay.”
Crawling on her hands and knees to the top of a sand dune, she peeked through a clump of tall grass and took a quick sweep of the area. Twenty yards away, Nico had been forced face down on the blacktop and was being held at gunpoint by one man while two others searched the helicopter. Concealed by the grass, Kate thought about options.
She estimated she was about twenty yards away, and with the Glock being accurate at that distance, she might be able to get a good shot. On the other hand, if she didn’t hit the guy standing over Nico on the first shot, the man might put a bullet in Nico right there. If she had a rifle it would have been an entirely different story, and she was more confident in her shooting ability with a rifle.
She unzipped her backpack and withdrew her Glock, then checked to make sure it was fully loaded. It was. She dug around in the backpack and found two extra magazines which she stuffed in the front part of her bathing suit top. The flimsy shorts she had on wouldn’t hold a magazine or—
Kate turned just in time to see Reload bolt. “Nooo, Reload, no.”
Reload, who had been sitting patiently, dashed out from behind the sand dune, bolting toward where Nico was being held.
Kate could only stare in worried bewilderment as Reload scooted around the sand dunes and headed out into the wide open space of the blacktop.
Legs gobbling distance, the big dog didn’t flinch when the first shot went high above his head.
Kate brought her Glock up to a shooting position. She aimed at the man and fired. The shot went wild.
The man whipped his head around trying to find where the shot came from.
Kate fired again, distracting the man. The brief muzzle flash caught his attention and he swiveled his rifle in her direction. He aimed and—
Nico catapulted over and swung his legs at the man holding him hostage, catching him in the crook behind his knee. The man buckled and fell backward. He got off a bad shot, and before he could shoot again, Reload had run up on the man and clamped down on his hand. He shook it with wild abandon as if he was shaking prey.
The man kicked Reload, but the big dog was undeterred.
Nico sprang up and wrestled the rifle out of the man’s hand. An instant later, he put a bullet through the man’s brain.
Another shot rang out and Nico ducked. He grabbed Reload by the collar and forced him down.
Someone was shooting at the helicopter, or at the men inside.
Nico scanned the dunes for Kate. His gaze went to a tall clump of grass high atop a dune. He frantically waved Kate to stay away, hoping she had seen him.
Crouching, Nico ducked under the helicopter, and spying a set of legs, he took aim at an ankle. The man screamed and fell. Another shot and the man went silent.
There was only one left. Afraid Reload might get shot, Nico got the dog’s attention and said, “Kate. Find Kate.”
Reload’s eyes blazed at the mention of Kate’s name.
“Go. Find Kate.” Nico swept his arm in the direction where he had last seen Kate.
Reload dashed away from the helicopter and ran toward where Kate was hiding, tucked away between the dunes.
Once Reload was out of harm’s way, Nico stood and hugged the outside of the helicopter, inching closer to the door.
“Don’t shoot,” a voice quavered from inside the cockpit.
Nico wasn’t sure if it was a girl or male’s voice. Not wanting to take a chance on an ambush, he ordered, “Drop your weapons and put your hands where I can see them.”
A pair of slender hands appeared from around the helicopter door. “Don’t shoot.”
A moment later, a scared, gangly teenager wearing a baseball cap, worn jeans, and a man’s shirt tentatively emerged. The teen hopped out of the helicopter to be greeted by the deadly end of the rifle.
Nico was taken aback by how young the teenager was. Then it dawned on him the teen was a girl.
“Don’t hurt me,” she said.
Nico eyed the girl with suspicion. He had been fooled before by a harmless looking old man. He wasn’t about to let a waif of a girl lure him into complacency.
“Turn around,” Nico ordered, “and put your hands on the helicopter.”
“What for?”
“Do it,” Nico growled.
The girl complied, her back to Nico. He took a step toward her and patted her down on her back, legs, under her arms, and when he put his hand on the front pocket of her jeans, his hand came into contact with a hard object.
“What’s this?” Not expecting an answer, he reached into the pocket and pulled out a knife. “You can face me now.” Nico flicked open the knife. “I told you to drop your weapons. That meant all of them.”
“I don’t have any guns.”
The girl trembled, her shoulders were slumped, her eyes downcast, and before Nico could say anything else, she burst out crying.
Undeterred by the show of emotion, Nico coolly asked, “What’s your name?”
The girl sobbed and hiccupped. “Haley,” she squeaked. She sniffled and ran her fingers beneath her eyes. “Can I have my knife back? It’s my daddy’s
knife.”
“Where’s your dad?”
Haley burst out crying again. Nico stood there unsure what to do. Dealing with crying teen girls was out of his comfort zone. “Where’s your dad?” he repeated.
“Those men killed him. He had come to rescue me, and they shot him. That one there,” she flicked her eyes to the man she was talking about. “Is he dead?”
“Quite dead.”
Haley went over to the man and kicked him.
“I’m sorry about your dad.” Nico studied the girl, wondering if she was telling the truth. Bewildered, he asked, “If they killed your dad, then what are you doing with them?”
“They kidnapped me.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“I’m not. I promise. They kept me tied up most of the time.”
The girl had some spunk left in her. Good.
“Have they hurt you?”
“No.”
“Where’s the rest of your family?”
“I’m not sure. I’m hoping they’re still in Corpus. I had come to the beach with a couple of my friends, and after the electricity stopped, we weren’t sure what to do. Cars weren’t working, so we spent the night in our car on the beach.”
“Where are your friends?”
Haley dropped her gaze to the ground. “Dead.”
Nico didn’t want to pry anymore regarding the fate of her friends. He pretty much knew anyway. “Corpus isn’t that far. Why didn’t you walk home?”
“I tried. But the bridge over the Intracoastal Canal had been taken control of by some gang and they wouldn’t let anyone pass unless they paid a whole bunch of money.” Haley’s gaze dropped to the ground. “They said I could pay them another way if I wanted to get across.” She took a hesitant peek at Nico.