Steel Force

by Geoffrey Saign

  Steel turned his head and smiled at her.

  “Does he think he can scare us?” she asked the dog.

  Spinner barked.

  Steel led her on an obstacle course next. Log hurdles. Under obstructions. And up a rope that hung from a branch fifty-feet up, and then down a pulley cable. She was impressed with how fast Steel went up the rope.

  Finished, they jogged back to the barn. Sweat ran down her face and beneath her green sweats.

  Steel punched in the code and unlocked the barn door, opening it so sunlight splashed inside. Christie was surprised with his security. Deluxe paranoid.

  He eyed her. “You’re in great shape.”

  “Rules and regulations made by stiffs at the top.” Smiling, she wiped sweat off her brow. She wanted to fling it at him, but instead studied his details. It was something she was proficient at, sizing someone up.

  Brown curly hair, a little messy and kind of cute around a friendly face, eyes that seemed trusting, with something else beneath that. Light olive skin. Strong shoulders. Six inches taller than her toned, five-eight frame. One ninety pounds, fifty over her one forty. Thirty-five, five years over her thirty.

  “Are we through?” She undid her ponytail, letting her brown and blond-streaked hair fall to her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face.

  He gazed at her, as if studying her. Was he on to her? “Look, Steel, you said do the workout and you would go over the Op. I have a busy day.”

  “That’s fair.” He led her inside.

  She noted the computer station, the VR setup which Kergan had mentioned, the sensory deprivation tank, and the ropes and target range. Impressive.

  He stopped next to the tank and pointed to a nearby door in the wall. “Sauna and shower are in there. Towels are in the closet. I’ll get us something to drink.”

  She used the hot shower like a massage, letting the spray beat against her tanned skin, soothing the aches she felt all over. Steel had worked her hard.

  She wasn’t quite sure what to think of him. He had unique toys. That side of him fascinated her. Something else also drew her to him, something visceral that she couldn’t easily identify. She could see pain beneath his sincerity, written on his eyes—which appeared to be searching for empathy. She had to watch that, feeling any sentiment.

  ***

  Steel walked to the house and filled two glasses with lemonade. He had expected Christie to leave when he demanded she run with him. When she agreed, he had been both surprised and disappointed.

  But the run woke him up. Besides feeling a little foolish over his demand, he realized he was glad to have company. He returned to the barn and set the glasses on a desk near the computer.

  His desktop and phone beeped simultaneously. Lasers and cameras on the perimeters of his land triggered a text to his phone and an alarm on his computer if they were tripped. He sometimes wondered how—with all this security to protect his family—he had still managed to lose his wife and child.

  He stepped up to the computer and hit a key. The large wall screen showed a live view of the end of his driveway and the county road. He pushed more keys, bringing up camera feeds from closer areas on the driveway. A black two-door Lexus appeared on the screen, driving past the cameras. A signal had also gone off from a laser on the south county road.

  Hitting more keys, he brought up camera views along the county roads on the east and south side of his property. Nothing. No stored images for the last hour either. Could have been a deer that tripped the laser, and then jumped the camera. It had happened before.

  Spinner lifted her head and watched the barn door intently, giving a low growl.

  Drawing his Glock, Steel glanced at the shower room door. “Come on, girl.” He strode out with Spinner, his gun level, pausing at the corner of the barn to peek around it.

  The Lexus appeared, moving slowly, stopping twenty yards away. It had tinted windows, hiding the interior. The driver got out, smiling. In his thirties, the big man wore dark shades, jeans, a yellow polo shirt, and had short hair and a fat face.

  Steel didn’t trust the smile.

  Spinner growled and spun around to face the forest.

  Steel whirled and knelt, his gun facing the same direction. He fired two shots at a man aiming a pistol at him from behind a tree.

  The man ducked behind the trunk, but a silenced bullet dusted the ground a few feet to the side of Steel.

  “Drop the gun or the next bullets take you and the dog.” The voice came from behind him.

  Steel glanced at Spinner, and slowly put down his Glock. “Sit, Spinner.”

  The dog obeyed with a small whine.

  Steel slowly straightened, watching the man behind the tree approach him. The guy had to have come in from the south county road, dropped off by the Lexus earlier, and had somehow bypassed his sensors and cameras. Pros. Expensive.

  The driver of the Lexus was much closer. “We just want to talk.”

  Steel didn’t believe that either.

  CHAPTER 11

  They made him put Spinner in the shower room and close the door. He did it quickly, hoping Christie took long showers.

  He thought of the two men as Yellow and Blue. Blue was dressed like Yellow, except for his shirt color, and had a moustache and hairy forearms. Yellow had fluid movements. Blue had more muscle mass but looked slower.

  “Love dogs. Glad we didn’t have to hurt her.” Yellow pointed to the two glasses of lemonade by the computer. “The Jaguar outside—a woman’s, right? In the shower?” He put his ear against the shower room door and smiled. “We’ll have fun with her later.”

  “She doesn’t know anything.” Steel wanted to inflict pain on Yellow.

  “But you do.” Blue stood in front of Steel, his Smith & Wesson 9mm level.

  Steel eyed him. “What do you want?”

  “The truth.” Blue smiled. “Then maybe we don’t hurt the woman.”

  He knew the man was lying. “About?”

  Yellow stepped away from the shower room door. “Shame on you.”

  Steel flicked his eyes to Blue. Ten feet away. Too far to attack.

  Yellow clapped his hands together. “Turn around and face the wall.”

  Steel did. In seconds he collapsed to the floor.

  ***

  The last time Steel remembered kneeling he was ten years old in church with his mother. This time his feet were pressed against the north wall of the barn, with his hands zip-tied behind his back. They had Tasered him, but now they held guns.

  He looked up at fat-faced Yellow and mustached Blue. He was close to the sensory deprivation tank and the shower room door. The cement floor was uncomfortable beneath his knees. Frustration welled up inside him that with all his security and a gun in his hand, he had allowed them to capture him. He hadn’t been focused. Distracted by Christie’s presence.

  He felt for the OTF knife in the belt-sheath—it wasn’t there.

  Blue smiled. “In case you’re wondering, we found your knife. It’s by the computer.”

  Yellow put away his gun, took a quick step, and kicked Steel in the stomach.

  Gasping, Steel fell to the floor on his side. He had expected the kick and was ready for it.

  “We’ve been told to keep this up until you talk,” said Yellow. “Even a couple of days if we have to. And we don’t mind. Do we?”

  In answer, Blue put his gun away. He kicked Steel in the right thigh. “Yeah, we’ve got plenty of time.”

  Steel groaned. Spinner barked.

  ***

  Christie heard the dog bark. It sounded too close. She opened the shower stall door, grabbed a towel from the wall handle, and wrapped it around her torso. Carefully she peeked into the short hallway leading out.

  Spinner stood in front of the closed door leading into the barn, whining and glancing at her.
The dog looked upset. There was no logical reason for Steel to shove the dog into the shower room. That creased Christie’s forehead. She hurried to dry off and put on her clothing.

  ***

  Steel looked at their shoes. His stomach had taken the blow without much damage. His thigh hurt, but he put the pain into a small box and buried it deep in his consciousness.

  With his cheek pressed into the cool cement, he gave Yellow and Blue a different picture with teary eyes and groans. He had replayed this situation hundreds of times in his VR simulator.

  “Don’t hurt the woman,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll tell you everything.”

  Yellow looked at Blue, and then shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

  Steel groaned softly. “You’ll have everything you want in five minutes.”

  “Maybe we want to take our time,” said Blue.

  Steel’s voice hardened slightly. “Maybe if you hit me again you’ll never get anything.”

  Yellow spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. “A show of good faith.”

  Steel kept his voice strained. “I need something to drink.”

  “Why not?” Yellow walked across the barn floor toward the lemonade resting by the computer station.

  Blue drew his gun again.

  Steel peeked at Blue’s gun—pointed at his torso. He needed Blue on his knees, to shield him from Yellow. With one eye he watched Yellow until he was striding across the platform. Slumping his shoulders, he turned his forehead into the floor and counted to five. It would give Yellow enough time to reach the lemonade and pick up a glass.

  Then he rapidly rolled away from the wall.

  Blue tried to step out, firing the gun, the bullet pinging off the cement where Steel had been lying a moment ago. Steel felt his side burn, but he kicked out from the floor. Twice. He caught Blue hard between the legs and on the inside of one knee.

  Groaning, Blue fell to his knees, dropping his gun and cupping his groin with his hands.

  Steel had already swiveled to his butt, keeping Blue between himself and a charging Yellow. He quickly slid his hands beneath his butt and then his feet, using a quick, hard elbow motion to break the zip tie. Grabbing Blue’s gun, he shifted to his knees behind Blue, using him for protection. He ignored the pain in his side.

  Yellow ran for the door, his arm outstretched, firing his gun. As expected, he moved faster than Blue.

  Steel shifted around Blue, firing three times at Yellow, the reverberations ringing in his ears.

  Yellow staggered off the platform, his thigh and lower stomach red—Steel had aimed below any possible body armor the man might be wearing. The killer hit the concrete on his belly near the door and didn’t move.

  Spinner banged against the shower room door with barks and growls.

  Steel let go of Blue, who collapsed to the floor and threw up. His side on fire, Steel slowly stood and backed up, watching both men. Yellow looked dead. He wanted to keep at least one of them alive for questioning. He leaned against the sensory deprivation tank.

  Blue groaned and curled tightly onto his side, his back to Steel.

  Steel was aware of Blue working at something on his lower leg. “Don’t do it.”

  Blue abruptly rolled onto his back, a small gun in his hands.

  Steel shot him in the head. Blue’s arms fell to the concrete. Already on his feet, Yellow was opening the barn door. Steel fired but hit the closing door—the man was out.

  He slid down to the floor, still eyeing the barn door. He doubted Yellow was coming back.

  CHAPTER 12

  The shower room door cracked open. Christie stared at him. He saw the worry in her eyes. Probably for her own safety.

  Spinner pushed past her and dashed to him.

  “Hey.” He rolled to all fours, gasping, as Spinner licked his face. “Christie, get my gun.”

  While Christie bolted for his Glock, which the killers had tossed on the platform, he stood and walked in a limping gait toward the outside door. Kneeling ten feet from the door, he painfully went prone and waited for Christie. “Open the door fast but stay behind it.”

  He held the gun in both hands and aimed at the doorway. “Lie down, Spinner.” She did.

  Christie flung the door open, her gun up, and Steel checked his trigger finger. Yellow lay outside in the grass, on his stomach again.

  Steel rose and walked to the doorway with Christie. Yellow was missing part of his head. Without stepping out, he peered south into the woods. Spinner was beside him and showed no signs of agitation. He lowered his gun and looked at Christie. She didn’t look happy.

  He thought about options. Burying the bodies on his property wouldn’t work. He couldn’t trust Christie to keep it to herself.

  “Do you want me to call the police?” She frowned at the body.

  Blackhood Ops wouldn’t allow the police to investigate one of their operatives so he said, “Military might not want that.”

  He didn’t want to, but he had no choice but to call Colonel Danker, the only liaison he was permitted to call regarding Blackhood Ops concerns. Danker might suspect that he had attacked him on the Komodo Op, but it would look even more suspicious if he didn’t call him now. He had Danker on speed dial and explained the situation.

  “Hang on,” said Danker. “I have to ask on this one.” He came back in a minute. “They want us to handle it. Keep the police out of it. Army Criminal Investigation Command will be out ASAP.”

  Steel looked at Christie. “Let’s wait in the house. CID is coming.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Christie opened all the closed blinds until the spacious, oak-floor room with its high, rough-beamed ceiling shone with light. The wood furniture had cushions and was nicely spaced and casual.

  It would have made a better impression on her at a different time. She sat on a sofa arm and looked out the front window, swinging her foot back and forth with her toe tapping against the wall, her lips pursed.

  Steel’s flesh wound was bandaged and he sat on the same sofa. He had refused to go to the Army hospital so the medic shrugged, made him sign a release, and let it go at that. The CID medical examiner took the two corpses that had no IDs. The car was stolen.

  CID had taken their statements. Then Christie talked to them outside alone, out of Steel’s sight. She wanted it that way. They soon left.

  She cleared her throat. “What about the mess in the barn?”

  Steel didn’t look like he wanted to talk, nor move.

  She left and searched for supplies in the laundry room. He said nothing as she trudged out of the house to the barn. She viewed the barn floor in distaste. Steel couldn’t do it, and he wasn’t going to hire a cleaning service after what had happened. Besides, it might make him view her more favorably if she helped him.

  She cleaned up the dropped glass of lemonade on the platform first. Easy. While there, she spotted the automatic OTF knife near the computer—it had to be Steel’s. She pocketed it.

  The rest of the cleanup was obnoxious. Her knees felt sore on the cool cement as she scrubbed with arms and shoulders that already ached. She swore several times. The smell of bleach, iron, and puke filled her nostrils.

  Still jittery over what had happened, she paused once. If she had been shot, someone might be cleaning up her mess now.

  She returned to the house, a sudsy bucket of sloshing pink liquid in hand. Still on the living room sofa, Steel stared out the window at the driveway, one hand on Spinner, who sat beside him.

  “I got most of it out.” She walked past him. “At least it’s sterile.”

  “Thanks.” He didn’t look at her.

  She returned to the laundry room to empty and clean the pail and wash her gloves. Finished, she quickly checked the backdoor locks—standard key and deadbolt—and then walked into the kitchen to wash her hands.

 
The kitchen sink window gave a view of the side of the house. A bird feeder stood a dozen feet away. Grosbeaks and cedar waxwings picked at seed, while a red squirrel ate leftovers on the ground. A hummingbird feeder was attached to the house, and a pair of birding binoculars and a digital camera with a zoom lens rested on the counter.

  She shook her head. Mr. Nature.

  Quickly and quietly she opened all the cupboards and drawers. Steel had a lot of canned dog food and a dozen cereal boxes, but little else. A gallon glass jar stuffed with wrapped bubblegum sat on the counter, but the jar cover had dust on it.

  When she returned to the living room, Steel still hadn’t moved. She sat on the arm of the sofa again, already tired of him. Digging out his OTF knife, she tossed it onto the sofa. “You should have gone to the hospital, Steel.”

  He was stone silent. The guy was eerie. Her voice steeled and she gestured with a sharp wave. “What was that all about?”

  He looked up at her with a drawn face and shrugged. “Loyalty.”

  “To what?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned away.

  “Hey, I could have been killed.” He still didn’t look at her. His eyes told her that he wouldn’t say more. She wanted to yell at him for the danger he had put her in, but she forced those feelings down, keeping her voice soft. “Someone should be here with you, Steel. Where’s your wife?”

  He didn’t answer.

  His silence bothered her, but she decided on a different approach, asking a question for which she already knew the answer. “What are you doing with all the bubblegum?”

  His face shadowed. “It was for my daughter.”

  “I heard about that. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “We used to play a game to see how many bird species we saw in a day.” He glanced at her. “I haven’t given up on her. I’m still looking."

  Christie didn’t want to empathize but couldn’t help it. The pain in his eyes softened her expression. The man lived in a nightmare. “I hope you find her.”