by Akart, Bobby
He was tired of running and hiding. Besides, that was his father’s way, not his. However, Schwartz couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was nearby—stalking, searching.
Hunting.
Hayden slowed her pace as she reached the road. The path Schwartz left in the tall grasses of the field continued directly to that point and appeared to pick up on the other side. But she needed to wait for Alpha, who was a couple of hundred yards behind her.
She turned to flash the light toward him, and he waved his back and forth to acknowledge her signal. While she waited, she moved across the street with her rifle at low ready in case Schwartz planned to ambush them. Until now, she and Alpha had chased after the man without considering the fact that he could have easily stopped, found effective cover, and fired upon them at an opportune moment. After a quick glance around, she returned to the field to wait for Alpha.
Alpha finally caught up and did his best to avoid looking winded. Hayden knew better and gave the big man an opportunity to recover.
“He crossed here,” she whispered before she led him across the road. A stand of arborvitae trees lined the road, partially blocking the view of the steep hill beyond. Boulders, glossy from the nighttime moisture, and knee-high grasses speckled the landscape on the hillside until a dramatic drop-off appeared just as the flashlight’s reach ended. Hayden added, “Then the tracks suddenly stop.”
“Do you think he jumped off the cliff?” asked Alpha as he fully recovered from the pursuit.
“Well, he certainly headed straight for it,” she whispered back.
Alpha shouldered his rifle and Hayden did as well. He raked his light between the trees and then followed the broken grasses down the steep slope. Once he cleared the other side, he swept his light over the ground. He stepped forward for a closer look, then pointed at the knocked-down grasses.
“Footprints,” she said, dropping to a knee next to them. “The grass around them is still popping up. It hasn’t been long.”
She rose and unholstered her sidearm. They were close and her senses told her that they might have Schwartz cornered, if he hadn’t opted for suicide by cliff-diving.
Hayden moved ahead, careful to keep her footing. Alpha covered her with his rifle, but she kept her handgun at the ready just in case. The tracks continued down the hill and she shined her light forward to gauge her distance from the cliff that was looming ahead. Step by ginger step, she inched closer to the ledge, and then the footsteps ended.
Hayden stopped and flashed her light all around them, panning the grass, looking for the telltale signs of Schwartz heading in a different direction. Puzzled, she shrugged and continued on, a few inches at a time, until the grasses flattened out. The footstep-sized path suddenly became a couple of feet wide.
She mimicked the action, sitting down and sliding forward using her heels as brakes to avoid slipping downward. That was when she saw the opening. A small, man-sized space where the smashed-down grasses ended. She secured her position and turned to Alpha.
Using hand signals, she indicated he should be quiet, and then she pointed at her eyes and down to the ground several feet ahead of where she sat.
Alpha leaned forward and saw the dark void in the grass. He nodded his acknowledgment. Schwartz had gone underground—literally and figuratively.
Hayden started to inch back up the hill, but she began to slide. The wet grass was causing her difficulty and she began to lose her footing. Alpha quickly reached forward and grabbed the back of her tactical vest. Using the biceps that enabled him to do sixty-pound dumbbell curls in the gym with ease, he tugged her backwards until she was safely by his side.
She mouthed the words thank you and then motioned for them to step several yards back up the hill, where they could talk.
“I wonder if we could roll one of those boulders down the hill and plug up the hole,” said Alpha, laughing under his breath.
“Nice thought, but it won’t work,” said Hayden. “He obviously knew about this place. There’s no evidence that he had to search. He came straight for the cave’s entrance, dropped to the ground, and slid in.”
“So let’s go get him,” said Alpha, who stood a little taller and readied his rifle.
“Not a good idea,” said Hayden. “I have experience with caves, and not all of them good. First of all, he knows what’s down there, and we don’t. If he’s armed, we could be facing a gun barrel the moment we step foot at the bottom.”
“I’ll take my chances,” said Alpha, showing his typical machismo.
“No, Alpha. Listen to me. There could also be a way out. It’s not unusual for these types of openings to be created from water runoff. I think we’re on top of Crystal Cave, the local geologic-formation-turned-amusement-park. He might have run out the lower entrance.”
“Let’s chase him down, then,” insisted Alpha, who was anxious to catch the elusive Mr. Schwartz.
“If he knows his way around, it’s most likely he’s escaped already. We no longer have a way to track him.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Alpha.
“Let’s flush him out,” she replied. “Between us, we’ve got six smoke grenades. We’ll drop them in, one at a time, until he can’t breathe or freaks out. Whichever comes first is fine with me.”
Alpha stifled a hearty laugh. “I like it, Foxy. That’s hard-core.”
She slapped his chest rig and turned back toward the cavern’s entrance. She ignited the first of her three smoke grenades, made sure that it was billowing gray smoke, and tossed it down the hole.
Then they waited.
At first, the sound was barely detectable. Hayden strained to listen, thinking she heard an indiscernible cough.
She ignited another grenade and let it sail downward. The stick-shaped smoke bomb bounced off the rock walls and tumbled downward until a thud could be heard.
Smoke was not coming out of the hole, which began to concern Hayden. There might be another entrance to the cave, and the slight winds could be carrying the smoke out well below their field of vision.
Again she listened.
There! She heard it that time. A hacking sound. Schwartz was down there, and he wasn’t able to hide his inability to breathe.
She turned to Alpha and provided him a devious grin. She cracked open her last smoke grenade and tossed it down the hole with more strength, hoping that it would find its way deeper into the cave.
Hayden was tired of fooling with this guy. Like a relay runner holding her outstretched hand behind her back for a baton, she waited as Alpha placed another smoke grenade in it. This time she issued a warning to Schwartz.
“All right, Schwartz!” she shouted into the hole. “There’s plenty more of that headed your way. Why don’t you just come on out and we’ll work this out?”
“Screw you!” he shouted at Hayden.
She shook her head and mumbled, “Well, that was rude.” She snapped the smoke grenade and tossed it down. This time, she used a lobbing motion so the grenade fell down the shaft without touching the walls. She was trying to vary her techniques to fill the entire cavern with smoke.
Schwartz no longer tried to cover up his inability to breathe. The coughing sounds grew louder.
Hayden turned around. “I think he’s coming up.”
Alpha readied his rifle and took up a shooting stance. He waited for Schwartz to emerge from the hole. However, it wasn’t his head that appeared first.
Schwartz fired several bullets through the opening. Hayden instinctively fell backwards as the whizzing sound of the rounds flew past her head.
Schwartz’s attempt to fire wildly in their direction angered Alpha, who let out a guttural growl and pointed his rifle barrel downward, unleashing a barrage of automatic gunfire into the cave.
When he released the trigger, the sounds of bullets ricocheting off the rock walls could still be heard as smoke began to billow out of the hole.
“No more! Please, no more!”
Hayden stood and retre
ated from the cave’s entrance a few paces. “Well, it’s about time.”
Alpha shouted into the cave, “Come on out, jerk-off. Put the gun in your pocket. I don’t want some kid to stumble across it.”
Thirty seconds later, their target emerged from the cave, one empty hand at a time. A ricochet had grazed his cheek, opening a gash that gushed blood onto his jacket.
“Don’t shoot! I did as you asked. The gun’s in my right jacket pocket.”
Schwartz climbed out of the hole, and Alpha grabbed his right arm and pulled Schwartz up the hill and away from the hole. Hayden quickly searched his pockets and found the gun, which she removed before tucking it into her cargo pants’ pocket.
“Stand up!” ordered Alpha.
Schwartz managed to get to his feet and began to turn around when Alpha shoved him in the back.
“Turn around and walk up the hill! Don’t run, or you’ll die!”
Schwartz tried to bargain. “Listen, I have a lot of money. Whatever they pay you, I’ll double it. No, I’ll triple—”
“Shut up!” shouted Hayden. “We don’t want your dirty money. Keep walking or I’ll shoot you just for the hell of it!”
Schwartz stumbled up the hill, regained his footing, and then walked again, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Chapter Forty-Three
Schwartz Lodge
Kutztown, Pennsylvania
Cort stoked the fire, which was now putting out a tremendous amount of heat. The bright flames lit up the room, casting eerie shadows on the post and beam construction. Two Queen Anne chairs had been placed on either side of the hearth, separated by a table that held a couple of bottles of brandy, two filled glasses of the spirit, and a .357 Magnum handgun. Sitting in the chairs were Briscoe, whose lacerated scalp was laid open, and Schwartz, whose cut face only emitted a trickle of blood, which added to that which had dried on his cheek. Both men were cuffed at their feet and ankles with zip-tie restraints.
“What are you gonna do with us?” asked Schwartz, the only one of the two who was sufficiently coherent to speak. Briscoe, although alert and apparently comprehending what was going on, was unable to speak for some reason, likely from the blow to his head.
Not that it matters.
Alpha and the rest of the team stood near the bar, their arms resting on their weapons slung in front of them. Delta broke away from the group to stand near the doors leading toward the deck. He’d already expressed concern to the group that the gunfire would be noticed by the locals, and county deputies were probably being dispatched.
Nonetheless, the group stood by silently. This was Cort’s show and they were prepared to let him play it out.
Cort looked into the faces of the men and women who’d loyally followed him into the Pennsylvania woods in search of the people who’d ordered the attack on the Haven. The last person he approached was Alpha, who spoke from the heart.
“I know what you’re about to do. Cort, listen to me. You’ll never forget what’s about to happen. The looks in their eyes, the last words spoken, the feeling in your gut.”
Cort raised his hand. “I get it.”
“No, seriously. When I say forever, I mean forever. Every one of us has killed before, including Foxy, who ran over that guy in Richmond. Death is death, whether by gunshot or SUV or whatever else you might have in mind. You will live with this for the rest of your life. Are you ready for that?”
Cort patted Alpha on the shoulder and smiled. “This has to end. Now it’s up to me.”
“Guys, I hear sirens way off in the distance,” interrupted Delta. “They might be responding to something else, but I doubt it.”
Cort turned to address his captives, speaking to Jonathan first. “This is the beginning of the end of the civil war that has been brewing for decades,” began Cort. “You and your father have been instrumental in funding the tools of discontent, from the media to the anarchists who have infiltrated America. Your father will die in prison, and you will die right here and now.”
Schwartz was defiant as he challenged Cort. “By who? You? You’re the one who’s gonna kill me? Who the hell are you anyway?”
Cort was a changed man. The attack on the Haven and the subsequent kidnapping of Hannah, ordered by one of these men, or both, was not going to go unpunished.
“There is no justice except frontier justice,” began Cort. “You two wanted a civil war, just like the eighteen hundreds, right? Well, this is how justice was administered back in the day.”
Cort moved forward and picked up a glass of brandy. He swirled the spirit around in the glass and took a swig. Then he picked up the handgun, the heavy weight surprising him.
“Wait a minute,” said Schwartz, who was trying every angle to live through the day or buy time. “I know you. You’re Cortland, Trowbridge’s son-in-law. You’re no killer.”
Cort allowed a devious, smug laugh. “True, on both counts.”
“Well, your daddy-in-law, mister Southern boy, is no different than me or the vegetable over there,” said Jonathan as he nodded in Briscoe’s direction. “This whole plan was his idea, I’m told. So you gonna go kill him next?”
“He has to make his own peace,” Cort shot back. “You’re here to pay for what you did to my daughter and my friends. There’ll be no judge and jury for you, Schwartz. Only justice.”
“You don’t have the balls to shoot me, Cortland. You don’t get your hands dirty, just like Trowbridge.”
“Just like you, Schwartz, I command an army. But unlike you, my army believes in the Constitution and America and everything our nation stands for. I aim to restore the freedoms and ideals upon which our nation was founded.”
“You’re delusional!”
“No, I’m right. This war of cultures and supposed social justice and rewriting of the Constitution will end. It starts with taking away the people who pour their money into organizations that stifle freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and suppress the history that made America what it is. This will be a long process, but it has to start somewhere. I say it starts with you!”
Schwartz used his feet to push himself away from Cort. Fear overcame him as he studied Cort’s wild eyes. “You’re not a killer, Cortland. You can’t do it.”
“I command an army, Schwartz. Briscoe, here, is still under my command. He’ll do it.”
“What? How?”
Those were Schwartz’s last words. Cort lifted Briscoe’s right hand, wrapped it around the .357 Magnum, and pointed the gun at Schwartz’s head. Cort slowly assisted Briscoe in squeezing the trigger.
The loud report reverberated off the walls of the lodge as the heavy-grain bullet exploded into Schwartz’s skull and blasted out the other side.
Cort kept Briscoe’s hand on the weapon. Trowbridge’s longtime friend and associate was still unable to comprehend what was happening, so Cort dispensed with the lengthy admonition for the man’s misdeeds.
He turned the gun to face Briscoe’s temple and whispered in the man’s ear, “You betrayed your country. You betrayed your fellow Bonesmen. You took your shot at me and missed. Let’s see if your aim is better this time.”
Cort squeezed the trigger, ending the traitor’s life.
Chapter Forty-Four
Schwartz Lodge
Near Kutztown, Pennsylvania
The report of the powerful handgun was still ringing in Cort’s ears when Delta raised his voice to get everyone’s attention.
“We’ve got to go. Now!” he implored.
Alpha motioned for everyone to follow him through the patio doors, and the group quickly responded except for Cort. He paused to look at the two dead men, whose skulls had exploded from the force of the bullets striking them so close.
He snatched the two bottles of brandy off the table and doused both men with the highly flammable spirits. Cort poured a trail of the brandy from the two dead comrades into the fire. As a final act, he broke the two bottles against the stone hearth, causing the residue in each of the bottles
to instantly ignite into flames. Within seconds, both bodies were engulfed in fire, as were the bearskin rugs nearby.
“Cort! Now!” bellowed Alpha, bringing Cort back to the present. With a slight smile, Cort turned and bolted out the doors and followed the rest of the team down a short flight of steps into the wet grass.
“This way!” shouted Hayden, who remembered the path. The sky was beginning to lighten as the first sunlight of the day began to reveal itself. Visibility increased and so did the sounds of the sirens’ approach.
The group was all business now, not speaking to one another and moving as quickly as they could through the dense woods toward the west. Cort, who’d become emotional after the speech and the subsequent killings, turned the satellite phone over to Alpha, who made the call to the pilots.
He ordered the extraction from the field near the cave in which Jonathan had been hiding. Alpha advised them to drop down, but keep the rotors moving, as they wouldn’t take long to load up. He also told them to fly northward away from the pickup zone to avoid flying over the responding law enforcement officers at the lodge.
The pilot’s response was puzzling. He said that their flight plan had changed. Alpha shook it off, not understanding the meaning at the moment, but instead focused on leading his team to safety.
Five minutes later, the group emerged from the woods just as the chopper was setting down on a flat part of the ground. It was after six that morning, and visibility was clear. Over the sound of the massive blades, they could hear sirens, as fire engines were now being dispatched to respond to the structure fire.
Alpha paused before entering the helicopter, glancing around the landing zone to see if they’d been followed or observed. Satisfied that they were clear, he piled in and pulled the door closed. Seconds later, the Bell Relentless was racing northward toward the Poconos.
The pilot banked hard to the right before he flew near the Wilkes-Barre area and then continued eastward toward the Atlantic Coast.
