by James Hunt
Ramsey nodded in understanding and then looked down at his bound hands. In an instant, Angela brought the knife down between his wrists and cut the rope in half, startling him. She then pointed back to the car. “We don’t have a lot of time. Will you help us?”
“If I must,” Ramsey said, defeated.
She led him back to the car, where Burke looked upon them with surprise. “Why’d you free him?” he asked.
She opened the passenger door for Ramsey and made sure he got in. Once seated, she slammed the door and looked to Burke with her answer. “Sometimes you have to give a person the guise of free will. Makes things a lot easier… and less bloody.”
“Trust me,” Burke said, opening his door. “If he takes us to the right location, things are going to get a lot bloodier.”
***
They drove for more than an hour through the desert with no clear path ahead of them, relying on Ramsey’s aloof navigation. Angela believed their captive would take them where they needed to go, if just to remain alive. Burke, however, didn’t seem nearly as trusting.
He’d told her to keep a careful eye on Ramsey as they drove along the deserted road, with the city lights of El Paso to their right in the far distance. She stared at the back of Ramsey’s white hair wondering just what he was capable of.
Ramsey had since relinquished some tidbits of information. The compound was underground, as Omar had said, and it was only reachable through a tunnel—underground as well. Both Ramsey and Omar had referred to it as “the bunker” at one time or the other.
Ramsey further explained that it was constructed with assistance from the Mexican cartels. Other times, however, ISIS took such hideouts by force. Sleeper cells were growing throughout Texas and around the entire country. Burke acknowledged as much and said the actual number was far larger than the government wanted to admit officially. It wasn’t hundreds, it was thousands, Ramsey explained.
“I admit it sounds bad,” Ramsey said. “But if the government isn’t going to do anything about it, why can’t a fellow make some money from their fanaticism in the process?”
After a few matter-of-fact statements out of Ramsey’s mouth, Burke had heard enough. “You think that admitting your slimy tactics redeems you on the basis of free enterprise or simple opportunism?” he asked.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Ramsey said, arching one brow.
Burke pointed ahead past the headlights where the cracked and faded road went dark. “Of course you do.”
Ramsey reacted defensively. “I’ve been cooperative, have I not? I’m taking you to the hideout, and dare I say, you’d have been completely lost without me. I’m only trying to stay alive.”
Burke shook his head with a smile. “If we didn’t get the information from you, we’d get it from some other shitbag.”
Angela leaned forward from the backseat. “Knock it off, please. Both of you.”
The car went silent save for the rumbling engine of the Fusion as it barreled down the long, dusty road. Her eyes shifted to the back of Ramsey’s head again. If she felt inclined, she could easily put a bullet in his skull. But Ramsey had a point—they’d be lost without him. The man who had played a part in her husband’s death was in her presence. Forgiveness was a concept she no doubt would struggle with the rest of her life.
She then decided to address Ramsey with a single, pointed question. “When you saw my husband, before they killed him. How was he? What did he say?”
Ramsey turned to her, struggling with an answer but flashing a look of understanding.
“He was concerned about your daughters most of all. Everything he did was to ensure their safety.”
“And my daughters?” Angela asked.
“Last I saw, they were held in an isolated cell. No harm had come to them.”
She had heard enough to satisfy her for the rest of the trip. It then dawned on her that rescuing Chassity and Lisa had everything to do with honoring Doug as much as being a mother. But despite how anything turned out, she knew they all had a long road ahead of them.
***
The clock said 3:35 a.m. when they arrived at what looked like a large crater resembling a landfill. A blue moon was out, low in the sky, casting light into the hole, where Angela could see several junk cars—even a bus among them. She stood near the edge with Burke, Ramsey at her side, examining the area and its shadowed caverns from within.
“How do we get in there?” Angela asked, overwhelmed by the daunting task ahead.
“You’d probably need an army,” Ramsey said.
“I think we’ll do fine on our own,” Burke replied.
Ramsey took a step back with a laugh, astonished by his brazenness. “Good luck. I’ve taken you as far as I can. Will you release me now?”
Burke looked around the ghostly barren desert with its outlined mountain ridges in the distance. “So you can warn your terrorist buddies? I don’t think so.”
Ramsey sighed with frustration. “Please. I can’t allow myself to be seen. If they accuse me of being a spy…” He paused, noticing the blank, unsympathetic faces before him. “It’s certain death for me and my entire family.”
Burke crossed his arms with a smirk as he and Angela looked at each other. “You’re getting us in there, Ramsey.” He pointed down the crater. “That’s your only option.”
Ramsey shook his head in disbelief—the white stubble on his face noticeable even in the darkness. “We had a deal! I brought you to their compound. To expect any more from me is madness!”
“Keep your voice down,” Angela said in a hushed tone.
Ramsey seemed uncontrollable. He paced wildly and flailed his arms in the air, demanding that they reconsider. “You don’t just hold a gun to someone’s head and make them do something, and then kill them after they do it. That’s not how an agreement works. If that was the case, I never would have brought you here.”
Burke stepped close to him, pulled his pistol out, and pressed the barrel against the side of his head. Ramsey froze and lowered his arms, staring at Angela with pleading eyes.
Burke spoke calmly. “You’re getting us in there. Whether you live or die, that’s completely up to you.”
“Damn you,” Ramsey said. “Damn you both to hell.”
“Relax,” Burke said, lowering his pistol. “You’ll live longer.”
Ramsey’s eyes shifted around nervously as Burke walked behind him, disappearing from view. Burke then slapped his hand over one shoulder and pushed Ramsey down on his bare knees, his robe flapping behind him.
“You stay right here,” Burke said. “We’ll be back.”
He then signaled Angela toward the car, parked by some nearby bushes. They walked off together as Ramsey remained on his knees, staring ahead in a frightened daze.
“Surprised you didn’t tie him up,” Angela said.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Burke replied.
As Angela kept watch, Burke went to his trunk to retrieve his arsenal. He pulled two steel weapon cases, one much larger than the other, and placed them on the hood of the car. He then went back and grabbed some ammo cans. “Can you grab my M4 from the front seat?” he asked, closing the trunk.
Angela did as asked and laid the rifle on the hood with the others, its forty-round magazine to its side. Burke set the cans down and then snapped his fingers. “One more thing…” He quickly walked to the trunk and came back with a black gym bag.
“Anything else?” Angela asked.
“Very funny,” Burke said. “And since you asked, yes, there’s flak vest in the back for you.”
He felt along his tactical vest and its pockets full of rifle mags. He opened the first case—the larger of the two—revealing the M240, a long and heavy automatic machine gun that packed a punch with its incredible firepower.
He opened the other case, containing a 12-gauge shotgun with pistol grip and sling of shells. He looked over all three weapons, picking them up individually and feeling their weight.
&n
bsp; Angela’s attention remained on Ramsey, who hadn’t made a move. She may have looked ready to follow Burke’s lead, whatever it was, but she was carefully devising a plan of her own.
“We’re probably going to have to kill most if not all of these guys,” Burke said, holding up the M240 with both hands. Shiny, linked 7.62mm rounds protruded from its side into a plastic ammo container attached to the bottom.
“I’ve got another idea,” she said.
Burke turned to her with a suspicious glance. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
Angela placed her hands on the shotgun and pulled it out of the case, holding it up as though it perfectly suited her. Her attention then went to the gym bag. “What do you have in there?”
Curious about what she was up to, Burke unzipped the bag and began to dig through it. “Pistol ammo. Tools. Duct tape…”
“Perfect,” Angela said, going right for the tape. With the roll in one hand and the shotgun in the other, she turned back to face Ramsey in the distance.
“You want to fill me in on this little plan of yours yet?” Burke asked.
“Sure,” she said. “We get in there with whatever leverage we can muster. We find my daughters and get out without firing a single round.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Burke shot back. “We’re dealing with ISIS here. They don’t negotiate, and they sure as hell don’t let two Americans walk.”
“I know this can work,” she said with steely conviction in her voice. “As long as everyone plays their part.”
“Our parts, eh?” Burke said, seeming impressed but at the same time mocking her. “I’m not committed one way or the other just yet, but I’d love to hear more,” he said with a touch of sarcasm.
She told him her idea.
Then she walked to the back passenger door and grabbed one of the bulletproof vests, slipping it on as Burke looked up into the early-morning sky with the approach of dawn nearing. He clutched the M240 by its carrying handle, took his M4, and walked away. Angela ran past him holding a shotgun, ready to enact her plan.
From his knees, Ramsey lifted his head as Angela stood in front of him. The sight of her holding the shotgun startled him. “What are you going to do to me?”
“We’re going to use you to get us inside.” She handed the tape to Burke as he approached and set his weapons down. He took the roll with an oddly obedient stance.
“Stand up,” she told Ramsey.
The edges of his bathrobe swayed as he rose with a sigh. She walked behind him, frightening him even more as she pressed the barrel of the shotgun into the back of his neck.
“What are you doing?” he asked, frantic.
“Let’s go ahead and wrap him,” she said to Burke.
He pulled a stretch of tape from the roll and proceeded to wrap it around Ramsey’s neck, much to their frightened captive’s dismay.
“That thing better not be loaded. What is this? Answer me, damn it!”
Angela pushed the shotgun harder just as Burke finished wrapping a third layer around his neck, attaching him to the end of the shotgun barrel. “Keep your voice down,” she demanded. “Listen to me, David. You don’t want to get shot, you do exactly what I say. First you get us in there. Once that happens we need you to keep them at bay. Keep their attention. Tell them that without you, they’re screwed. Tell them that all I want are my daughters. Whatever you have to say. You shout and you scream and you don’t stop until they take me to where Chassity and Lisa are. Got it?”
Ramsey closed his eyes, thinking. His wobbly legs still shook, and he seemed overcome with anxiety. Angela knew that she was asking a lot of him, maybe more than he could handle. But he owed her. And if any of them were going to be alive at the end of the day, she couldn’t think of a better way.
She held out her hand, asking Burke for the M4. He handed it to her, somewhat surprised. “You want the 240 too?”
Angela couldn’t help but expel a nervous laugh. “Just the M4 and shotgun will be fine. She then continued with her instructions. “I need you to cover me. We stay back to back.”
Burke nodded in understanding. “Very well.”
She then examined the crater below and noticed a sloping dirt pathway leading down into the darkness. “Let’s get ready to move out,” she said to both Ramsey and Burke. As Burke raised his monster machine gun, cradling it with both hands, Angela asked him if he was okay with everything. Ramsey remained silent, with dread in his eyes.
“I sure hope your plan works,” Burke said.
“So do I,” Angela replied.
They began their trek to the side of the crater and descended into the unknown, hoping to emerge anew.
Counterstrike
From the bottom of the crater, down past several rusted vehicles—many of them stripped of parts—Ramsey led them to a cavernous entrance that ended at a hard steel door. Angela’s heart pounded with anticipation. They reached the entrance to the bunker when Ramsey explained that there were generally two guards at the front and many more once they passed through the underground tunnel that stretched for a quarter mile.
When the question came up about what to do with the guards, Burke offered his quick summation. “I think it’s pretty clear what needs to be done.”
Ramsey suddenly began to shift around in a nervous panic. But like a leash, the tape around his neck made it hard to move. “I can’t do this. You have to let me go. We’re all going to get killed in there. I don’t want to die!”
Angela yanked the shotgun back, pulling him into place. “Everyone just calm down. It’s going to be okay.” She then turned to Burke, apprehensive about what he might do. “We have to be smart about this. You just watch my back and control yourself.”
“Now’s not the time to go soft, Agent Gannon,” Burke said.
Ramsey took one step forward as his shaking hand hovered inches away from a thick red button. “Just know that once I push this button, there’ll be no turning back.”
“Ready when you are,” Burke said, huddled down behind them with his machine gun resting on one knee and aimed at the door.
Angela kept her steely-eyed glare on Burke. “I don’t plan to put my daughters in the middle of a cross fire. Understand?”
“We have to find them first,” Burke said. “Don’t forget that.”
Angela back turned to Ramsey, who had yet to press the button and was looking as though he were prepared to stall for eternity. “Do you know where they’re being held?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, on the verge of tears. “There is a long corridor with rooms. Most of them used for storage. They gutted a few and made them holding cells. Third or fourth door on the right.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder and felt his body shivering. “Okay, then. Let’s move. Go ahead…”
Ramsey closed his eyes and pressed the button. They could hear a faint ring and waited, listening for the slightest sound of movement. And for a moment, nothing happened.
“Do they have any security cameras around here?” Burke asked, looking around.
“They have some inside, but I’m not entirely sure which ones work. The wiring has been on the fritz,” Ramsey answered.
Burke laughed to himself. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
At the center of the door, a rectangular slot slid opened as a pair of piercing gray eyes peered through—suspicious at first but then wide with surprise. “Graves? What are you doing here?” the voice asked.
“I need to speak with Salah.” Ramsey paused. “It-It’s urgent.”
“He’s busy. What is your news?”
“Sorry, Abdul. For his ears only.”
Though Abdul stared back with contempt, it seemed that Ramsey had a fair amount of clout in their organization. To his credit, Angela thought he was doing a good job so far.
A heavy unlocking mechanism sounded, followed by the door being pulled back, and then the silhouette of a man with thick, broad shoulders came into view. Angela did her best to remain con
cealed by Ramsey, as Burke crouched low and out of sight. All they needed to do was get inside, Angela believed, and everything would fall into place.
Just when she thought they were going to be given passage, the man raised a long silver flashlight and turned it on, blinding Ramsey in the process.
“What happened to your neck?” Abdul asked, examining the duct tape wrapped around it.
“Ah. I had a little accident. That’s all.”
Abdul slowly turned away from Ramsey and stood aside, exposing another guard, who watched them from inside the door. “Well,” Abdul said, “go in already. But you may be waiting a while. Asgar is wrapped up as it is.”
“He’s here,” Burke whispered to Angela with excitement.
Angela pushed Ramsey forward, knowing full well that their cover was close to coming to an end. Though Abdul turned and walked inside, completely letting his guard down. Ramsey reluctantly stepped forward as Angela pushed him in with a nudge. The low ceiling and narrow hall ahead appeared as an underground burrow. Two battery-operated Kerosene lamps sat atop a folding table, illuminating the room.
Ramsey walked in with Angela and Burke attached behind him like separate appendages. Burke nudged the door shut with his boot, remaining unnoticed.
Abdul leaned against the wall, bored and tired, while the other guard stood across from him, adjusting a handheld radio. The tunnel beyond the guards was lined with glow sticks. As Ramsey came into full view of the guards, their eyes lit up at the sight of Angela behind him.
“Drop your weapons!” she shouted.
Both men instinctively grabbed their AK-47s and held them up, heightening the tension in the room in one split second.
“Do what she says!” Ramsey shouted in a panicked voice. “Anything happens to me, and you’ll answer to Asgar.”
Abdul and the other guard, who sported a long, scraggly beard and shaved head, looked at each other with fearful uncertainty.
Burke looked out from behind Angela, resting his M240 on the ground. He pulled his silencer pistol out and aimed it directly at the men, still unnoticed.
