by H. L. Wegley
Hannan winced, then turned and tilted his head back, staring at Craig … down the bridge of Hannan’s nose. “The infamous Captain Craig, you little …”
Craig tried to mentally deflect Hannan’s vulgar character assassination, but the sewer flowing from his mouth wouldn’t stop. “Close your filthy mouth! Now, Hannan!” Craig's hands squeezed on his weapon as he fought the urge to send this man into eternity.
Hannan took his hands off the laptop and met Craig's gaze. “But you need to realize that—”
“No! You need to realize that it's over, Abid.”
Hannan jerked erect, rigid in his chair after hearing his birth name. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “Brock Daniels is dead.”
“What?” Had the troops arrived and killed them? He studied Hannan’s face. Craig’s assessment … the man was desperate and bluffing. “Do you really expect me to believe that? At the very moment when you become the hostage, your not-so-special forces capture one of our—”
“Not one. Four of them.” Hannan’s eyes focused on the laptop as the lighted screen flickered, turning Hannan’s face from white to red. “And Daniels will most certainly be dead, along with his friends, unless—”
“You'll be dead if you don't shut your mouth.” Craig's gut balled into a huge knot. “Daddy-O, cuff our illustrious president, while I check out his laptop. And leave his hands in front. We might need them.”
With a quirky grin, Hannan stared at Craig, keeping his bravado while the team daddy cuffed the president’s hands.
Craig spun Hannan’s laptop around on the table to study the screen. A large modal window shone brightly, glaring at him with angry red letters.
To Captain Craig or to whom it may concern,
Daniels, Banning, and another couple are facing the cave wall with M4s pointed at their heads. I would suggest you free president Hannan, now. If you do not, Ms. Banning will soon start screaming and screaming and... you get the point, I'm sure.
Captain Deke.
Chapter 37
Julia checked the safety lever on her M4 again. Automatic mode.
Brock and KC lay on the cave floor, their hands taped behind them.
The man called Johnson had finished taping Jeff’s hands and now worked on Allie.
When Johnson stood, there would be separation between the soldiers and her friends.
One pass through Deke’s and Johnson’s position in automatic mode and this nightmare would be over.
Julia eased her upper body out from behind the boulder, pulled the gun into her shoulder and raised the barrel …
Vivid memories came storming back into her mind.
Dense vegetation around the Yoruban village surrounded her.
Her best friend, Bisi, stood beside Julia facing Bisi’s jihadist cousin, Ore.
Ore pointed his gun at Bisi's face.
The staccato popping of the automatic weapon paralyzed Julia and Bisi fell to the ground, her beautiful face reduced to a bloody mass.
Julia gasped and nearly dropped her M4.
I can’t do this.
Breathing hard, she pulled her head back behind the rock. Had Deke heard her? She peered around the corner of the lava boulder.
No, he didn’t hear. Deke had his phone in his ear. “Who is this? … Captain Craig?” Deke swore. “I want to speak to Hannan, now, or the four people here are going to die!”
Craig must have captured Hannan. She prayed that Deke needed Hannan alive as much as Craig wanted to save her friends in the cave. Otherwise, this would end soon and badly.
When Deke had threatened to do horrible things to KC and Allie, rage had contorted Brock’s face into a frightening caricature of his usual expression. Brock was fierce in a fight and, at six-foot-five and nearly 240 pounds, he was deadly. KC said he had killed one of Captain Blanchard’s men in less than a second, though Brock was handcuffed. Even if Brock managed to kill one of the men, the other one would kill him.
Julia had to end this before Brock attempted anything.
Deke’s argument on the phone with Craig continued.
Julia studied KC on the ground beside Brock. The desperation in her eyes was more than Julia could bear. She looked away.
Was Deke too evil to let him have his way? Was any person so evil that she could just mow them down with an automatic rifle? Could she kill a person God had created in His image?
She had no answers to her questions.
Once again, Julia proved herself to be too weak. The kids at school were right. Wimpy Weiss they had called her. Maybe she should get what she deserved. That would be easy. Just walk out from behind the rock and let Deke shoot her.
A voice came from somewhere deep inside. Not exactly a voice, more of a thought. But it was neither Julia’s voice nor her thought.
You are not weak. I made Julia Weiss strong, like Brock and KC—made for such a time as this. Only you can stop the evil. Julia, the time is now!
Chapter 38
Questions ran through Craig’s mind faster than he could answer them.
Did he have the DUCC guarded sufficiently if they were attacked?
Seven of his men were outside the DUCC, four guarding the stairwell door and three at the big entry door to the DUCC. Three were in the command center with Craig. Blaine and Meyer had their guns on Hannan while Daddy-O watched the inside door.
Deke said two women, didn’t he? KC and Allie. And four people. That probably meant Brock and Jeff were captives, too.
Where was Julia? And more importantly, where was the man who could save them, Benjamin?
One thing Craig could count on, if Benjamin could have been there, he would have been there. Something must have happened to him. Whatever it was, he was probably out of the fight, at least for now.
For the time being, Craig had only one option, to maintain the standoff while he tried to devise a way to end it, successfully.
He had let Hannan speak to Deke to prove the president was unharmed. Time to end that conversation.
Craig yanked the phone from Hannan’s cuffed hands.
And now it was time to try a bluff by adding a little FUD, fear, uncertainty, and doubt. “Listen, Deke, if you harm any of those four people, I’ll give orders to the men approaching to make sure you don’t come out of that cave alive.”
“What men approaching?” Deke growled back.
“Don’t you know that Hannan ordered a company of Rangers from JBLM to take out everyone in the cave?”
“You, sir, are a liar. That’s not going to work with me. Maybe I should start with the Banning girl, now.”
Craig handed the phone to Hannan. “Tell him who’s coming, Hannan, and what they’re going to do.”
“Deke, I ordered a company of Rangers from JBLM, 200 men, under a Captain Scott. They have orders that no one is to leave that cave alive.”
Craig took the phone from Hannan. “Satisfied, Deke?”
“Well, it looks like your side loses, regardless. They’ll all be dead.”
“Look, Deke. Hannan is history no matter how this plays out. And if you harm one hair of anyone’s head in that cave, I place a call to the Ranger company commander and you’re history.”
Craig’s bluff had few teeth in it. No teeth that would bite Deke. Captain Scott wouldn’t take orders from Craig. In fact, Scott had no knowledge of Craig, Deke, what was happening in DC, or inside the cave. The orders would have to come from Hannan.
Craig muted the phone. “Hannan, when I say so you will issue the orders to kill Deke on sight.”
“Suppose I refuse?”
Craig pulled out his Ka-Bar and placed the blade against Hannan’s neck. “Then you die.”
“Then they die.” Hannan gave Craig a smirk, but beads of sweat covered Hannan’s forehead.
Craig could probably make Hannan comply, but didn’t have enough time to do that with Deke threatening Brock and the others. Craig unmuted the phone. “Deke, hold on for a minute. I’ve got a proposal for you.”
“You’ve got one minute, Craig. A short minute. These two women are becoming a bit of a temptation, if you know what I mean? I’m having a hard time choosing between the red-headed supermodel and the Spanish beauty.”
Craig muted the phone call. Deke could do things to the women that were worse than death. He might even attempt such things to get his way.
Craig sought a solution, but he stood in the middle of a Mexican standoff while playing Russian roulette. The bullet in the spinning chamber was the approaching Ranger company. Who knew when it would end up under the firing pin?
Though Hannan had confirmed it, Deke hadn’t said he actually believed there were Rangers approaching. And who knew what the Rangers would do? They might send in a bunker-busting rocket and kill everyone in the cave.
Any reward Deke expected to get for his role would have to come through Hannan. So threatening to kill Hannan was the only way to keep Deke from killing his hostages. Craig had to maintain a precarious balance of threats, a balance that would be destroyed when the troops arrived at the cave.
And Deke’s reaction when the troops arrived? Craig hadn’t a clue.
He ran scenarios and contingency plans through his normally sharp mind, but found only a muddle of flawed logic and ineffective tactics. He needed to tell Deke something before he killed anyone or attacked the women.
Daddy-O turned the handle on the inside door. “Sir, I’m going to make a quick check on the chamber. We don’t want any nasty surprises coming through that soundproof barrier.”
“Go ahead, Daddy-O.”
Craig’s minute ended with no clear plan in mind. He unmuted the call and drew a breath to speak, not sure what words would come out. “Deke, here’s the deal—”
A loud crack drowned out the soft whir of the air-conditioning equipment.
Craig dropped the phone and raised his gun.
Hannan lurched forward from the chair, fell on the floor, and rolled onto his side.
Craig’s head jerked toward the sound that came from the back of the room.
In front of one of the bathroom doors, a gaunt old man with a cane stood. The Secretary of State, Eli Vance. He dropped a handgun to the floor, released his cane, and raised both hands.
As shock wore off, Craig fought the urge to bash in the old man’s head. Did Vance have any idea what he had just done? Would he care that he had, in effect, killed Brock and the others? Craig pointed his finger at the assassin and growled out his command. “Blaine, cuff Eli Vance. Daddy-O, get Cutter in here, now.”
When Blaine grabbed Vance, Craig dropped to the floor beside Hannan. The large exit wound below his sternum told the story even before their Medical Officer, Cutter, arrived. The shot had hit Hannan’s abdominal aorta. He would bleed out in a couple of minutes, and there was nothing anyone could do to save him unless he was already in the operating room with a surgical team.
When Craig dropped the phone, the speakerphone had evidently come on. Deke’s voice blasted from the speaker. “Was that a gunshot? What’s going on, Craig?”
If Deke knew the truth, he would kill everyone in the cave. Craig muted the phone, his available options flying through his mind too fast to catch. After the options had all flown away, only one thought remained.
God, help us.
Chapter 39
From the floor where he knelt beside Hannan, Craig glared at the assassin. “Vance, you just killed seven people.”
Eli shrugged. “I always told him someone would shoot him someday.”
Hannan struggled to talk.
Blaine grabbed Eli’s shoulders and shoved him closer to Hannan.
The president, glassy-eyed, looked up at Vance. “Why, Eli? I trusted you more than anyone.”
“Abe, after they abandoned you, you were supposed to give up, disappear, or fail, completely. But you wouldn’t stop. You were poisoning the well, ruining the future for the organization. If you continued, there could be repercussions that would make it impossible to …” Eli’s voice trailed off. He looked at Hannan. Something like pity flickered across the old man’s face, then he pursed his lips and stared at the wall, still and stoic.
Where was Cutter? Blood pooled around the president’s body, far too much blood. Maybe Cutter could do something like … perform a miracle?
“Who ordered it? Alexis?” Hannan clenched a fist in either anger, pain, or maybe both.
Eli nodded.
“Tell her she can go to—” Hannan hissed the words then stopped as the air drained from his lungs. His eyes closed and Abe Hannan became the fifth American president to die from an assassin’s bullet.
The door to the DUCC opened and Cutter burst through the doorway.
Daddy-O stepped in behind Cutter and closed the door.
“He’s gone,” Craig said.
Cutter knelt beside Hannan’s body, felt his neck, and nodded. “The bullet exited right through his abdominal aorta. It’s a shame. Now, he’ll never be tried and convicted for his crimes.”
Craig turned toward Eli. “What’s the organization and who’s Alexis?”
Eli’s mustache lifted on one side as he gave Craig a crooked smile. “If I told you that, I’d have to shoot you.” Eli chuckled. It ended in a coughing fit that drove the old man to his knees on the floor and left him wheezing to catch what appeared to be an elusive thing … his breath.
Chapter 40
Steve glanced at the F-15 on the tarmac as the little Cessna lifted off the runway at Madras, thirty miles north of Sisters.
The sixty-something pilot with grizzled hair that hadn’t seen a barber in at least a month, shot Steve a glance from beneath equally grizzled eyebrows. But the eyes beneath those bushy brows were a brilliant blue, filled with intelligence. Right now, they were questioning eyes. “You’re not planning to shoot me with that assault rifle, are you, son?”
“Wouldn’t that be unconstitutional?”
“Whatever you say. You’ve got the gun.”
“Sir, I took an oath to defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. That’s all I’m doing. But our illustrious president has become a domestic enemy.” Steve paused and adjusted the pack on his back filled with polyester and a few hundred feet of cord. “You sure this chute is packed right?”
“If it ain’t, you won’t get the chance to shoot me for it.”
“Don’t count on that, old man. But, if this chute doesn’t open, some good people are going to die.”
“Good people? Like who?”
“Brock Daniels, KC—used to be Banning—and the woman I love, Julia Weiss.”
“The heck you say. Daniels and Banning—good people. And Miss Weiss … wasn’t she the young woman who survived Ebola a few weeks ago? Read about that in the papers.”
“That’s her. But you didn’t read everything about it in the papers. Hannan’s DOD got her infected with their genetically engineered version of that little bug. You know, the one that invades your body a cell at a time until it liquefies all your organs and you just—”
“Shoot, son, can we talk about something else. Medical stuff about my innards makes me queasy. You keep talking about it and you might have to fly this plane while I do some serious upchuckin’.”
The small plane dropped like a rock, lifting Steve off from his seat, then he slammed down hard as the plane rose for three or four seconds. It dropped again and leveled off.
“And flying through thermals, above the desert, on a hot summer day doesn’t bother you?”
“Not a bit. Son, I’m on your side, so—”
“Why don’t we just say we’re both on the same side, the side of the United States of America? Can’t this bird go any faster?”
“This ain’t that F-15 you just climbed out of, but I can crank her up to 120 or so.”
“Please do it, sir. We don’t have any time to waste.”
The pilot shoved on a knob above his right leg and the engine wound tight. “Now, where we going, exactly?”
&nb
sp; “About eight miles southwest of Sisters.”
“Remind me … what’s there?”
“It’s called the Skylight Cave.”
“Well, shoot. You should have just told me. I’ve been there a time or two. I’ll put you right on top of that old lava tube.”
“No, sir.”
“Quit calling me sir. I’m no officer.” He pulled a hand off the wheel and shoved it at Steve. “Name’s Bob Daggett.”
Steve shook it. “Sergeant Steve Bancroft, US Army Ranger.”
“So where do I put you down, Ranger Bancroft?”
“I won’t know for sure until I see what’s happening on the ground.”
“Well, you’ll see what’s happening in ten or twelve minutes.”
The plane dropped, sending Steve’s stomach into flip flops, then slammed him in his seat when the Cessna bounced back up.
“Darn!” Bob, shook his head, pulled a hand off the wheel, and poked a finger into his mouth. He pulled it back out. “Let’s slide west a little. Get away from the desert floor. Those doggone thermals knock my upper plate loose when I hit’em at this speed.”
For the next five minutes Bob flew the plane down the foothills of the Cascades in silence, except for the drone of the Cessna’s engine.
Steve ran through his mind every scenario at the cave he could think of. But it had been three and a half hours since Craig told Steve to turn back. A lot could happen in that span of time.
Bob raised his right hand and pointed at something ahead and to their left. “There’s Sisters.”
Steve’s eyes sighted down Bob’s arm. Beyond his pointing finger, a town lay nestled in what looked like Pine trees. He scanned the edges of town, then choked when he drew a sharp breath.
Southwest of town, in a field sparsely populated with Ponderosa Pine trees, only six or seven miles from the Skylight Cave, sat eight Chinook helicopters. If they came in quietly, no one in the cave could have heard them. Depending upon how much equipment they brought, eight Chinooks could transport anywhere from 150 to 400 troops. From that location, the troops could reach the cave in two hours, maybe less.
