by R. T. Wolfe
She scanned through the small fires that seemed to be everywhere. There. In the dark, in the rain. A rusted metal door that led underground. Take them to the cellar with the others, the pit boss had said. Fear in the eyes of men who didn't understand made Nickie invisible. She walked tall through the mud. Through hell.
A chain and padlock covered the door over the ground that held crying children captive. She heard her mother's voice. Her true mother. Nickie closed her eyes. Gloria lived. Her familiar soothing voice crooned to the children who were with her. She had used the voice with teenage Nickie during spells of flashbacks and panic attacks. Her mother who loved her. Unconditionally.
She found tools. They were crude and filthy, but they weren't electric and didn't contain any wiring. Digging the crowbar into the pin at the hinge of the door, she pounded. The rust was too much. Below turned into silence. At least they were safe. The EMP would explode and they would live.
A hand rested on her shoulder. She reached to take it and flip the body attached, but the man was quick. He pulled his arm away. Ice blue eyes smiled beneath a head of salt and pepper hair. "Nathan," she said and smiled back at him.
He took the tools from her and released the hinge, then another and another until the door was free.
Covering her fingers with the ends of Duncan's coat, she and Nathan inched it from the cover of the cellar. Fingers appeared from beneath. They wrapped around the side of the metal and heaved. Heaved until she saw the face belonging to the fingers.
"Brother," she said.
"Sister," Gil answered and nodded behind the tears on his cheeks. "You came."
"Always."
"There are children down here. Help us."
"Not yet." She hesitated, convincing herself to have faith that Duncan knew exactly when and where to be when the bomb went off. She held out a hand to Nathan. "Come," she said. "This is his expertise. The war. He knows how to be safe."
Nathan shook his head as the tips of their fingers parted. "He is my son. I cannot leave him. Stay with the children." He smiled, spun on his feet and ran.
"Nickie," Gil said as children started crying again. She crawled in with them and looked around at the underground village. Gloria sat on the ground with children circling her. Her smile was warm. Nickie closed her eyes and inhaled. The area extended all around her like a dark city of mud.
"Bomb shelter," Gil said.
"Irony. Get away from the door."
His chin jerked toward her, then to the children. "Get away from the door," he yelled.
* * *
Leaving Zheng half-conscious on the ground, Duncan stepped out into the drizzle. It whipped around his face and hair, but did little to put out the fires. A trio of men, soaked with the rain and soot, walked around the burning rusted truck. Two explosives had been affixed to that vehicle. Vengeance was sweet.
He stepped backward into the shed and almost stepped where Zheng's body lay. Glancing down, he considered giving him a sound kick. He was gone. Zheng. He checked the area and spotted Zheng's backside where his hands remained tied, ducking into the shed that held the better vehicles. Duncan lifted a corner of his mouth. "Good luck with a working vehicle, Zheng," he said and eyed the window in the back.
Crawling through the way he came wasn't necessary. He waited for the trio to pass, then dipped his head out the opening once again. With the fires to the east, he marched around the west side of the building. The backpack with the cell phones and watches still lay, untouched, in the spot he'd dropped it.
A loud crack sounded behind him. It was followed by a heavy thump. He rotated on his feet and found Nathan straddling a man in black, placing a hard right hook to the side of his head. Blinking several times, he looked to his uncle, his father. "That's the second time you've done that for me today."
Nathan lifted from the perp, then huddled close to the building with Duncan. They had but a few moments before the electromagnetic pulse. "I took care of Jun Zheng," he said to Nathan. "Nickie is free and went to find Gloria and Gil. She thought she knew where they're located. All of them, she said, although I have no idea what that means."
"I do. Let's go to her."
"We are out of time," Duncan said.
Chapter 32
Nathan faced him. "What do we do? Where do we go?"
He looked around. "We stay right here," Duncan said.
"Here?" Nathan turned his head toward one side of the back of the shed to the other.
They were at the southernmost edge of the compound. In front of them lay over a hundred yards of barren brown plains.
"Are you suicidal?" Nathan asked.
"Possibly," he said, realizing he'd placed the lives of everyone in the hands of Dr. Byrd. "We're away from anything electrical or that contains or uses a fuel source."
Nathan didn't seem completely convinced. "You're smiling. That's it. You dyed your hair grayer than mine, and you're smiling. You are suicidal."
"I'm remembering."
"Tell me. And hurry. I want to know about this memory before we die."
"It is small. We sat like this fishing for palm-sized blue gills in the Black Creek behind your home."
"Our home, and we caught more crawfish and turtles than fish."
"You saved my life."
"I don't think the crawfish were that big."
What would Duncan and Andy have become if Nathan hadn't raised them as his own?
From his peripheral vision, Duncan noticed movement. A Mercedes SUV with tinted windows came into view. Mud kicked up behind the tires as it drove straight toward a plane at the end of the crude Fu Haizi airstrip. Duncan's autopilot checked his wrist for the time. "That's not a good idea," he said.
The propeller kicked on before the Mercedes came to a complete stop. "That is a really, really bad idea." He stood. It was minutes at best before the EMP exploded.
The driver stepped out. Zheng. A small battle ignited in Duncan's head. Part of him wanted to take off running and snap his neck once and for all. Part of him wanted to sit back down next his uncle and let the bastard die in the air.
Arms free, Zheng opened the back door of the Mercedes, and Duncan dropped his chin to his neck. Ivanna Monticello. Duncan started toward the plane. "There's going to be a lot of panic," he said as he walked backward. "This won't be like the power went out. This will be cell phones, watches, radios, cars." He pointed at the aircraft. "And planes." He spun around and took off running as he yelled over his shoulder, "I'll find you."
Zheng turned his head and looked at Duncan. He smiled.
Duncan waved both arms over his head as he ran. "No! It's not safe."
With one arm, Zheng guided Ivanna onto the step of the plane; with the other, he saluted Duncan.
Duncan's feet beat against the wet soil as he ran. The door of the aircraft had barely shut when it started to move. Skidding to a stop, Duncan could see Zheng leaning toward the pilot and talking into his ear.
It was like the end of days. The plane tipped into the air and started to circle back when a series of clicks sang between the sounds of burning vehicles and buildings. Then, everything went dark.
Zheng waved through the window. A flyover. The engine cut and the plane took a nosedive. It was a distinct sound and one Duncan remembered well. The crash pierced the air with a loud crunch. A mushroom cloud of smoke and fire encompassed the compound like a useless umbrella.
Nickie.
The rain stopped, and the screams started. He ran through the panic. A handful of men carried obsolete electrical equipment to useless vehicles. Others bent over raised hoods in attempts to repair what the electromagnetic pulse had destroyed. Most simply bolted to The Hill where dots of electricity said civilization remained.
He spotted her. Short, dark hair didn't keep him from knowing his wife. His feet slowed as the backs of his eyes burned. She stood with one foot in a cellar, helping one child after another emerge from the depths.
The children gathered around Gloria like a tour group.
Nathan. Gil. They'd formed an assembly line. Lifting his chin, he turned in a complete circle, checking for the two who remained missing. Andy and the doctor. He saw nothing but confused men who walked like zombies and others who looted their own place of business.
The last child emerged as Duncan reached Nickie. She turned, blinked and smiled. Her face glowed, full of life and color. "There you are," he said and kissed her forehead.
She slipped an arm in his and used the other to guide the children down the single dirt road. There were dozens of them. A quick count said thirty-five. He had no idea how they would transport them all to the safe house. The conversion van hadn't been protected and the rental sedan would hold a dozen at most. No idea if Andy had gotten the data and secured it in cardboard before the EMP, but he had his wife and his wife had the children.
They'd walked the children nearly to the end of the compound when a familiar VW van turned the corner and headed toward them, toward the fire and the panic that was behind them. It was followed by two other vehicles Duncan hadn't seen before. Samuel.
It was the best-looking vehicle Duncan ever laid his eyes on. He would get one himself as soon as they returned to the states. Samuel slowed to a stop and rolled down his window. "I saw the explosion." He glanced behind him at the other vehicles in the line. "We all did."
Leaning out, Duncan saw that the drivers were the same men who wore the dirty white T-shirts from The Hill.
Samuel announced, "We need to hurry."
"We have to call the local authorities," Nickie said.
Samuel stepped out and craned his head around her and the children at the flames and smoke. "I think they will know," he said and opened his back door.
* * *
"It was awesome!" Jimbo paced as he spoke. "We, like, saved people."
Eddy stood from his seat in the break room and stretched. "They're called children, Slimeball."
Nickie sat with her boots propped on the table in front of her. Headlines scrolled along the bottom of the small television monitor in the corner. As Slippery Jimbo and Eddy bickered like a married couple, she read.
OPERATION FU HAIZI... FBI RESCUES 158 CHILDREN FROM HUMAN TRAFFICKING...
This time, Nickie knew they'd been truly saved. Each was either placed or on his or her way to a safe house. The parents of nearly each child on the Missing Persons list had been notified.
Slippery Jimbo ignored Eddy as he lifted to the balls of his feet. "We were like the good guys. I might even give up stealing shit."
"Aww," Nickie said and eyeballed the donuts. There was a Bavarian cream with her name on it. "It makes my heart melt."
Eddy rolled his eyes like a junior high girl and stood. "Can't take the drama. I'm gonna go work on the mountain of good guy paperwork." He stopped when he reached the doorway. "Never thought I'd see the day when I had to write up shit for the feds."
She smiled. "You're just nice that way, Eddy."
Jimbo grabbed the Bavarian cream and popped it in his mouth. She could have scratched his eyes out, but it made him stop talking, so it might have been worth it. "Official police informant exiting the prem-ee-sees," he said and walked out the door toward the elevator.
She blinked when the news frame changed to a picture of Hurst carrying a girl on his hip. Scrambling, she found the remote and turned up the volume.
"Each of the 158 have a place in rehabilitation facilities," he said to the set of microphones shoved in his face. He turned his gaze directly to the camera. "Nonprofit rescue organizations across the country have opened their doors to provide safe homes for the victims to heal. Y'all should consider giving your time and donations to help the little ones like this here Joy." The little girl clung to him with big, dark eyes.
"Special Agent, we understand that a few members of the FBI have been arrested as long as a well-hidden list of politicians."
"I am afraid I cannot comment on an ongoing investigation at this time. It's been less than twenty-four hours, gentlemen. A press release will be scheduled. Give us some time."
The video footage and spreadsheets Andy had been able to retrieve would take more than some time to go through. Years of footage. Crooked cops were few, politicians... not so much. It was an amazing feeling to know there was evidence to bring them to justice.
She turned to Duncan. He was staring at her. "What?" she said.
"Your face. It glows."
"It's the weirdest sensation," she said and shook her head. Commercial. She pressed the television back to mute.
"It is closure."
"What is what?"
"The sensation. It is closure."
Huh. She guessed that made sense. "What are you doing over there?" she asked. He wasn't like Eddy, who could sit and play on his phone for hours. Yet, he'd been doing just that for the past several minutes. "Why not your tablet?"
"This is not my phone," he said and kept scrolling.
It was hers. "Hey!"
"Infertility is not uncommon," he said.
"Not helping," she said, then regretted it. It had been his kid too.
"There are options. Many of them."
"I don't want to talk about this." The past few days had turned out so good. She was ready to go back to Lima and forget everything that was Upstate New York.
"Did you know that you have two messages from Special Agent Johnson and one from the hospital?"
"Special Agent Johnson? I'll get to it."
He held it out to her. "Either you do it, or I will."
"You," she said.
He sneered. "I already tried. Neither will speak to me."
She sighed and took her phone from him. She chose Special Agent Johnson first. She would leave a message. "Johnson," the agent answered.
"This is Detective Savage. I have a message to call you."
"Yes, thank you. The identity of one of the deceased has been acknowledged. I wanted to tell you myself."
George Kruger. She knew it. How did the special agent connect him to her?
"Nickie, I'm afraid it was your father."
What? "Who?"
There was a long pause before she repeated, "Your father. Edward Monticello. The autopsy is pending, but estimates say he had only been dead a few days. Do you know where we can find your mother? She has not been notified."
Yes. "No." That would have to come out in due time. "Wow." She knew that wasn't the appropriate reaction, but she was speechless. "Okay. Thank you. I'll make arrangements."
Duncan's expression was a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"They found my father's body. His own wife must have offed him. He truly didn't know about Fu Haizi."
"Nothing is black and white," Duncan said. "Life is a color palate of different hues of gray."
She nodded and sat back in her chair.
He shook his head. "Now, the hospital."
She held out her hand, but didn't give him the satisfaction of eye contact. The phone was placed in her palm. Lifting her nose, she raised a finger to swipe open the call. She recognized the number. She'd called it on several previous missions. It rang five times before she answered.
"This is Detective Savage," she said.
"Miss Savage. Hello. This is the nurse from the ER. I wanted to make sure you got my message."
"Right. Actually, no. I've been without my phone and—"
"Your discharge papers didn't say I could leave test results via voice mail."
"Well, here I am."
"The doctor says you're five weeks along now and that things look normal. The bleeding isn't uncommon, but it's not good. You need to get rest and..." Her voice trailed away.
The phone slipped from her hand onto the table.
Chapter 33
Nickie couldn't park in the drive. It was already filled with cars. Pulling to the curb, she chose a spot behind a familiar gray minivan. It belonged to Duncan's Aunt Liz. Nickie recognized it just as she could identify the owners to each of the vehicles parked in the drive and along the street.
This was her family now.
Her eyes burned from the long day at work debriefing Operation Fu Haizi. At least, that was what she told herself the burning was from. The paperwork from said operation may take another few weeks, but today was the Fourth of July, and everyone agreed they needed the night off.
As she walked up the drive, a breath of guilt blew over her. Not because she felt she should be at work, but because her hands were empty. Then there was the secret. She passed Duncan's Barracuda and shook her head. He allowed Xena in his Barracuda? What a good dad. Her feet stopped.
Dad. When had her life become normal? She closed her eyes, smiled and took a deep breath. The sound of children's laughter came from all sides of the Reed home. Deep bellows of male bantering provided the bass. Leaves from mature oaks and maples blew in the wind, cooling her face and creating a harmony to the melody.
She opened her eyes and continued her path. Few in this group were a traditional nuclear family. Aunts and uncles who raised their nephews. Stepparents, half-siblings and as Gloria's vehicle came into view... she added foster families to her silent declaration.
Since she had nothing to add to the spread that would be in the kitchen, she veered toward the side of the home. Her foster nephew and niece, Lela and Neva, danced around the pillars that stood guard near the front door on the wraparound porch. Evergreens towered at the corners of the home with a myriad of different plant things of colors that filled every space in between. The twins were so enthralled with their game that they didn't notice Nickie. Her eyes squinted as she smiled at them. They were at peace. They carried the childlike trust and safety every child should carry.
As she stepped off the drive, she glanced down at the grass that brushed the sides of her sandaled feet. The guys at the station had given her all kinds of grief over them. And the shorts? She would never live it down. If they only knew.
Before making the turn to the back, she stopped and watched. Duncan's uncle stood in the ankle-deep water of Black Creek that ran behind his home. It was the creek tattooed on Duncan's chest. She knew it so well, she could draw it herself, if she knew how to draw. The dark color of the water was an illusion created from the nearly black soil that lined the creek bed. Large stones scattered throughout. The arched bridge that crossed to the other side was weathered with age, making it all seem comfortable and right.
