by Erik Carter
A loud sound broke through the quiet. The crack of gunfire.
Flashes of light. More gunshots. His men were firing back.
Becker darted to the nearest tree, crashing through the undergrowth. He planted his back against the trunk.
Two deep breaths. He put his finger on the trigger and looked around the tree.
Ahead, barely visible in the darkness, were figures moving his way. Coming from the direction of the cabin, descending a hill. More gunshots. Small flashes of light.
Becker saw another one of his men get hit. His arms flung violently out into the air before he dropped to his knees, then to his face.
Ahead, a few more of his guys were navigating through a pair of half-fallen trees, crisscrossed against each other. Beyond that, about twenty feet away, were two of Hendrix’s men, headed their direction.
Becker stabilized his M16, pressing the stock into his shoulder. Fired. One of the Hendrix men fell to the ground. The other fled.
More gunshots. Men shouting at each other. Quick, frantic motions all around him. Screams.
Becker watched as another of his men dropped. And another.
He scanned the forest, breathing hard. And it only took him a moment to make his decision.
“Fall back!” he shouted to his men. “Fall back!”
Chapter Fifty-One
Asa heard gunshots in the distance. He smiled. The fun had begun outside. The sounds were muffled by the cabin’s massive timbers, which would also serve as a more-than-adequate layer of protection from any errant bullets.
He gazed into the lighted mirror in his green room and adjusted his shirt, aligning the buttons with his zipper and evening up the cuffs. Cody stood beside him, as vigilant as ever.
“I heard some nice screams coming from the office,” Asa said. “Sonya must be working Dale over good. Who’d have thought she’d turn out to be so ruthless?”
“I knew she’d do well,” Cody said.
Asa shifted his eyes slightly and looked at Cody’s reflection. A dark desire came to him. He smiled.
“She’s doing well, all right. Last night, in my room … Wow.” He chuckled a little, feigning amazement. The truth was, though, Sonya had been only a mediocre lay. “And you were the first guy she was with, yes?”
Asa kept his eyes locked on Cody’s reflection, but Cody avoided looking back. He stared to the side.
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“You popped her cherry. Man, oh man. Lucky guy.”
Asa continued to stare at him. Cody’s eyes remained downcast.
“You know the thing I like about her, Cody? Those nipples. Perfect little circles. So small. And pink. Not like those brownish ones you see so often. Actual, true pink. Like little strawberries, aren’t they? Mmm, taste like strawberries too.”
Cody still wouldn’t look at him. He hadn’t turned away from whatever he was focusing on to avoid Asa’s gaze. His eyes glistened.
Asa had hurt him with those last words, those intimate secrets about Cody’s first love, that image he’d conjured in the kid’s mind of how Asa had discovered those secrets mere hours ago, in the very same building in which they stood.
Asa had hurt him bad.
Which was the intent—using the power of language to continually beat this most important follower of his into complete submission. Asa needed absolute subservience from his assassin, so he continually put Cody in his place. With words. Words that said one thing to the ear but something entirely different to the soul.
I own you, you piece of shit, they said.
Asa switched his attention back to his own reflection. He smiled a large, welcoming, confident smile. And then turned for the door.
“Come on,” he said.
Cody followed.
Asa threw open the door and saw the group waiting for him on the dais.
“Gentlemen!” he boomed with a confidence matching the million-dollar smile on his face. “Welcome.”
A group of six men stood near the podium. The Colombian, the Cuban, the Mafioso, the Arab, the separatist. And Ulan Lebedev. Sinister-looking guys in mismatched clothes and mismatched skin.
Despite the big smile he’d given them, they looked at him with alarm.
“Hendrix,” the Cuban said. “We hear gunshots. What happens outside?”
There was a particularly loud burst of gunfire just then, close to the cabin. The men jumped, looked toward the entrance.
“Now don’t you worry about that, fellas,” Asa said as he breezed onto the dais and started shaking hands. “Like I told you earlier, we’re well protected. Just some pests in the trees. I got my boys out there taking care of it. We’ll have this cleared up long before the meeting starts.”
Asa waved his hand grandly at the stage surrounding them.
“Friends, this is where the magic happens,” he said. “Where I give all the speeches. You’ll have a front-row seat, of course, and you’ll get a little taste of the influence I have over these people. And when Cody here leads them off to complete their task at Y-12 later tonight, you and I will be conducting our business elsewhere, at the Cherokee Building.”
Nods of approval among the guests. They glanced at Asa and each other with subtle, sly grins. Snickering.
Cody turned to Asa, confused.
“There’s no Cherokee Building in Oak Ridge,” he said.
Asa shook his head and looked at the other men, ignoring Cody.
“Can you believe this kid? You can’t get good help these days. Am I right?”
The men chuckled.
Asa turned on Cody, still smiling but with a vicious look in his eye.
He couldn’t believe Cody’s audacity, questioning Asa like that in front of the distinguished guests. Clearly Asa hadn’t done as good of a job brow-beating Cody as he’d thought.
“Needn’t you worry, Cody Ellis,” he said. “You have more than enough to concern yourself with at Y-12. Leave the Cherokee Building to me and the adults.”
The other men chuckled again.
Cody cowered away from Asa’s stare.
Then Asa noticed something.
Movement. At the opposite side of the living room.
He turned just in time to see someone disappear around a corner.
It was Sonya.
And she’d been watching.
Asa knew immediately that something wasn’t right.
He turned to Cody. He’d seen her too.
Asa faced the others. “You fellas go ahead and make yourselves at home. You’re our guests of honor. There’s food in the back. Help yourselves.”
He looked at Cody again.
“Please excuse Cody and me. There’s something we need to attend to.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Dale crouched down and went to the far end of the porch, taking out his Model 36. He positioned himself safely behind one of the large, vertical timbers supporting the porch’s roof.
There were more gunshots from the forest, cracking through the cold air. Shouting. It sounded like a skirmish in a war film.
He looked out to the trees.
Past the bright lights of the parking area, there were flashes in the darkness. Muzzle flare.
He squinted as he tried to make out what was happening.
Finally he spotted someone close to the tree line. A man, crouching low, moving west. He wore dark, SWAT-style fatigues. One of Becker’s men. Behind the man, creeping closer to him, was another man, this one wearing civilian clothing and holding a .22.
Becker’s man hadn’t noticed.
Dale catapulted over the porch and sprinted through the brightly-lit parking area, losing traction for a moment in the gravel. He plunged into the trees.
He took aim with his Model 36 and fired. The round hit Hendrix’s man in the ass. The man fell over, screaming. Dale ran up to him, and before the man could react, Dale placed a boot across his jaw, knocking him cold.
Dale crouched down, positioned himself behind a trunk. More gunshots in
the distance. He looked out into the trees.
And then a pair of hands grabbed him from behind.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Asa and Cody rushed into the office.
There was no one in the room. The green leather chair was empty, and the electrical cords were scattered on the floor beside it. The soldering iron was unplugged. The window was wide open.
“Shit!” Asa said. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that little bitch. I should have never taken your advice.” He grabbed Cody by the shirt and shook him hard. “This is your fault, you goddamn idiot!”
He pushed Cody to the side and looked at the open window again.
“She let Dale go. The spy is out there, Cody!”
He took a breath and thought. For only a moment. There was no time to spare.
He turned back to Cody.
“Get your rifle.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
The gunshots were constant. Some nearer, some farther away. To Sonya, it sounded just like the gun range Cody had taken her to sometimes when they dated.
She stood at the corner of the cabin, squeezed against the wall, only occasionally peering out to the forest, where the firefight seemed to be occurring. The shots were so loud. And it was so cold. Her arms and legs were goose-fleshed.
She stole another glance around the corner. Past the bright lights of the gravel parking area she could see figures moving through the darkness of the trees. Lots of them. Firing weapons.
One of the figures she recognized. At the tree line. It was Dale. He was with another man. Dale was on the ground, and the other man stood above him. With a gun. Dale’s arms were held above his head. They were speaking to each other.
Was Dale bargaining with the other man? Pleading for his life, perhaps?
No matter what was going on, Sonya knew she had little time to spare. She had to get to Dale now. She had information for him. And he was in trouble.
There were gunshots all around her, and for a moment it paralyzed her where she was. She was unarmed. Unprepared. A battle raged only yards away from her, and she was in a minidress. Her mind began developing excuses, comfortable reasons why she should avoid doing the noble thing.
She silenced those thoughts.
She was sick and tired of fear.
There was danger. She knew this. But she also knew that she had done a lot of harm in the last twenty-four hours, sent a lot of negative waves out into the universe. And now she’d been positioned in this precise spot at this precise time for a reason. She needed to do the right thing.
There was movement to her left, on the porch. She turned.
Hendrix and Cody exited the cabin. Cody held a massive rifle in his hands.
Asa spotted her.
A wave of anxiety rushed over Sonya.
And she ignored it.
She had a mission to accomplish. She had information she had to get to Dale.
She locked eyes with Asa.
Then she took off into the open, sprinting toward the tree line.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Dale looked into the face of an assassin.
When he’d last seen Marcus Sloane, in downtown Knoxville, the man had worn a clean, contemporary ensemble fitting of the cityscape. Now, in the darkened forest, Sloane wore a pair of green, military-style fatigues. And when he’d violently flipped Dale onto his back and aimed his rifle at Dale’s head, he’d also been wearing a look of rage, one that told Dale the man wanted to kill him.
But once Dale quickly addressed Sloane by name and told him he was with the BEI, Sloane’s expression changed to one of stunned confusion.
“The BEI?” Sloane said. His voice was deep but also wispy, the kind of voice you’d imagine a python to have. He paused for a half moment. “Oh, god, that means you must be Dale Conley.”
Dale nodded.
“Of course,” Sloane continued. “Maddox went to you when he ran out of friends in the CIA.”
“Right. Now will you get that goddamn gun off me?”
Sloane let out a breath, lowered his rifle.
“What was Maddox onto here, Agent Conley?”
“Something huge. Steeger and Hendrix were working with the Russians. They’re going to attack Y-12 tonight.”
“Jesus Christ …”
“I need your help, Sloane. When—”
Dale stopped. Because he’d heard a voice over the gunshots. Screaming. Coming from the parking area.
Dale and Sloane both looked.
It was Sonya.
She ran at full speed, barefoot, through the deep gravel, stumbling every few feet, heading toward Dale. She had her eyes on him, and she waved her arms in big arcs.
“The Cherokee Building!” she screamed. “The Cherokee Building!”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Asa crouched with Cody on the cabin’s front porch, watching as Sonya sprinted through the gravel toward the tree line, waving her arms, screaming.
“The Cherokee Building! That’s where it will be!”
She was running toward two figures at the forest’s edge, just visible by the light from the parking area.
One of them was Dale.
Asa grabbed Cody’s shoulder and shook him hard.
“What are you waiting for?” he snapped.
Cody looked up at him. His mouth was open. Fear in his eyes. He’d never looked more pathetic to Asa. He slowly, reluctantly brought the big rifle to rest on the handrail, aiming it toward Sonya.
Asa boiled with impatience.
“Do it! She’s trying to warn him.”
Cody hesitated.
“She’ll blow this whole thing for us. Shoot her!”
Cody still hesitated.
“I said shoot her, god dammit!”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Dale watched as Sonya ran toward him. He rolled over, got into a crouching position.
“The Cherokee Building!” Sonya screamed.
Dale saw movement behind her, at the cabin.
Hendrix and Cody were on the porch, crouched behind one of the vertical timbers. Cody had the same high-powered rifle he’d used to cleave Maddox’s head. Its scoped barrel rested on the porch’s handrail.
The gun was aimed at Sonya.
Dale yelled out to her. “Sonya, go back!”
She kept coming, still screaming.
“Tonight! Hendrix is going to the Cherokee Building tonight!”
Dale stood up. “Go back!”
“The Cherokee Building! He’s going—”
CRACK!
The rifle was so loud it drowned out all the other gunshots.
Sonya jolted forward, eyes wide, a massive wound to her stomach. She dropped.
It was different from when Maddox had been shot. Less horrific. Maddox’s face had been torn from his head, but Sonya’s stomach wound, while also massive, was cleaner somehow. More graceful. There was something almost artful about it all. The fist-sized hole was perfectly round and fell perfectly in the center of her abdomen. A spout of blood cascaded into the bright, artificial light, twisting and glistening. She collapsed gracefully, slowly. There was a shocked but peaceful look on her face in the moment before it smashed into the gravel.
Dale started toward her, but Sloane grabbed him by his jacket, pulled him down to the ground just as a bullet tore through a nearby trunk, spraying them with chunks of bark and wood.
Dale looked to the cabin’s porch.
Cody’s rifle was aimed in Dale and Sloane’s direction.
Dale tried to get up, still going for Sonya.
Sloane stopped him again. He pulled him behind a tree trunk.
“She’s gone, Conley!” Sloane said, shaking him. “You go out there, and you’re dead too.”
CRACK!
Another round crashed through the trees around them, throwing down more debris.
“We gotta get the hell out of here!” Sloane said.
Dale took one more look at Sonya.
She was completely still. Legs
splayed. Face obscured by her hair that moved gently in the slight breeze.
Dale nodded at Sloane, and they took off into the forest.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
An hour later, and Dale’s body was still jittery with adrenaline.
The blaring sirens did nothing to soothe his nerves. Becker had explained that Oak Ridge had a system of emergency sirens throughout the city that were tested on the first Wednesday of each month.
That night was neither a Wednesday nor the beginning of the month.
This was not a drill.
The sirens were a deep, loud whine echoing off the buildings throughout the city. Constant and head-splitting. It sounded to Dale like air raid sirens from World War II movies, which made sense, given Oak Ridge had been created for the war. Becker had mentioned that residents of the city were accustomed to hearing the tests. But the current sirens were the real deal, and judging by the racket coming from the nearby police scanner, it was clear that the city of Oak Ridge had entered a state of panic.
Dale, Becker, and Sloane stood outside the massive doors to the building that stored Y-12’s security vehicles, a structure that looked like a small aircraft hanger. Around them, the sounds of panicked confusion melded with the blaring sirens coming from the city beyond the fence. Engines firing up. People shouting. Cars with SECURITY POLICE written on the side zipping by, one after the other.
“City cops aren’t going to Hendrix’s meeting,” Becker said, raising his voice over the confusion. “They have no warrant, and after I told them they’d be driving into a forest full of armed fanatics, believe it or not, they were even less interested. We’d need the governor to call in the National Guard to clear those woods, and by the time that would get arranged, the meeting would be over. I’ve got the city sirens running, and I’m sending out as many cars as I can spare to patrol with the city guys. Aside from that, we’re on our own.”
