THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5

by Steven Konkoly

  Sergeant Keeler. Corporal Allen.

  He was in friendly hands. For a moment, he thought Eli might have captured him. He hated to think what the man would do to him or any of his family if they were captured.

  “Lianez and Ragan?” asked Alex.

  “They’re fine, sir. Both up front. Jackson’s with Guardian Two-One, back at the site.”

  “Jackson,” mumbled Alex, shaking his head. “Any sign of Eli?”

  “Don’t know yet. We saw one crispy critter next to your Matvee, but we couldn’t get close. We barely got your guys out.”

  “I won’t stop until Eli Russell is dead. That’s my promise to Jackson.”

  “Wish I could be there to see it,” said Lianez, leaning in his seat to nod at Alex.

  “We all want to be there for that one,” said Keeler from the shadows of the compartment.

  The vehicle jolted to a stop.

  “We’re at the FOB, Sergeant,” said Corporal Allen.

  The back hatch opened, filling the compartment with cerulean predawn light.

  “Alex!” yelled Kate, pushing past Staff Sergeant Taylor, who held his hands up.

  “Easy, ma’am, they got rattled pretty bad,” said Keeler, kneeling in the doorway.

  “I’m fine,” said Alex, sliding through the hatch, barely able to stand on his own.

  He held Kate tightly, burying his head in her shoulder.

  “You don’t look fine—or sound fine,” she said, kissing the nape of his neck.

  “Where are the kids?” he whispered.

  “In the basement with your parents and two Marines. The place is swarming with Taylor’s men,” she said.

  “Good,” he said, kissing her lips briefly. He whispered in her ear, “Start packing up the trailer and roof carrier. Everything on the list. Just in case.”

  She pulled back a few inches, staring at him quizzically. “We’ll get started on that, together, after you get medical attention and a little rest.”

  Alex kissed her again and stepped back, reaching into the Matvee for his helmet and rifle. “He’s still out there.”

  “You don’t know that. It doesn’t sound like anybody survived the attack, either here or at the airport. Odds are good that he was killed.”

  “He looked fine when I saw him—right before he tried to burn us alive,” he said, clipping his rifle into the sling points integrated into his Dragon Skin vest.

  “You can barely stand up on your own! Let the Marines deal with this!”

  “I can’t!” he snapped, turning to her. “He’s still out there. And if he’s still out there, you and I aren’t safe. The kids aren’t safe. None of us are safe.”

  “Then we pack up, together, and go. He can’t follow us where we’re going,” she said.

  “He went through a lot of trouble to get at me, again. What makes you think we’ll ever be safe? He’s obsessed.”

  “He’s not the only one,” she said, frowning.

  “That’s not fair,” Alex said, pointing at her.

  “Neither is this,” Kate said, grabbing his helmet. “Your family needs you here.”

  Alex let go of the helmet, exhaling deeply. He hated fighting with Kate, especially when she was right. He could leave this to Grady and slip away. The Marines might think less of him, which would sting, but ultimately, he had a duty to protect his family.

  “He could have stayed and finished the job. There’s something else up his sleeve. Something we can’t predict. I have to finish this. It’s the only way to be sure.”

  Kate embraced him, pressing her head into his neck. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

  “No. Someone’s watching out for me,” he said.

  Kate pushed back, shaking her head in disbelief. “Really? I’d hate to have your guardian angel.”

  “I’m still standing, right?”

  “Barely. Make sure you stop by and see the kids before you take off. Emily hasn’t stopped crying since the bombs started going off. Amy’s not crying, but I know she’s worried.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said, kissing her passionately on the lips. “I love you.”

  “I love you more. You better not leave me with your parents,” she said.

  Alex laughed. “Might be in your best interest to loan me your guardian angel. Double duty.”

  “Tempting. See you inside,” she said. “Don’t forget.”

  “Never,” he said, searching for Staff Sergeant Taylor, who had mysteriously disappeared with the rest of the Marines when they started arguing. “Staff Sergeant!”

  “Yes, sir?” Taylor said, appearing from the side of the Matvee.

  “I want a two-vehicle convoy to transport Lianez, Ragan, and Jackson back to Sanford,” he said. “Sorry, Staff Sergeant. Jackson was my responsibility. I should have taken him down from the turret when I returned. I was convinced we’d run into Eli’s follow-on force, and I—”

  “Sir, Jackson didn’t belong anywhere but in that turret. We don’t drive around with gunners strapped into seats. Jackson pulled a bad card,” Taylor said, his eyes glistening.

  Alex grabbed both of his shoulders. “We’re gonna find that fucker. Trust me on that.”

  “I have no doubt about that, sir. Just don’t piss off the old lady too much. You get to drive out of here in ten minutes. Some of us don’t have that luxury. She’s an ass kicker,” said Taylor, brightening up slightly. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

  “She’d take it as a compliment,” said Alex, walking them toward the DRASH tent. Guardian Two-Zero is at the bombsite. What about the rest?”

  “Six-Zero replaced Four-Zero at the OP on Old Middle. I sent the rest to the bombsite. They should be there by now.”

  Alex nodded, looking back at the Matvee. “Keep Lianez and Ragan in place. We’ll use this vehicle and Five-Zero to make the trip to Sanford. Departure in ten minutes. Has Grady called?” he asked, feeling his vest pockets for his ROTAC.

  “He was headed into an emergency RRZ meeting a few minutes ago. I briefed him on the situation before he had to cut me off.”

  Alex nodded, picturing the broken handheld radio on the roof of the Matvee. The memory triggered a daisy chain of images.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

  “Sir?”

  “Have the Marines at the bombsite scour the church. I remember seeing a light in the steeple. After that, pull everyone back to the FOB. Tell Evans we’re heading out later this morning. When I get back with the ten Matvees Grady promised, we’re going on a little overnight trip.”

  “The Marines will be happy to hear that,” said Taylor.

  “Just keep it quiet around my wife, or guess who’s gonna stay behind to watch over the place.”

  “Mum’s the word, sir.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Alex said.

  He jogged toward the house to catch up with Kate.

  PART IV

  “REVENGE”

  Chapter 40

  EVENT +21 Days

  Main Operating Base “Sanford”

  Regional Recovery Zone 1

  Alex craned his head forward as they approached the outer perimeter checkpoint on Route 109, staring skyward. A staggered formation of military helicopters crossed the road far ahead, heading north. Six Black Hawks and two Chinooks. Someone was having a party.

  “I wonder what that’s about,” he remarked.

  “Looks like a company-sized raid,” said Corporal Allen, slowing the vehicle at the entrance to the maze of concrete barriers.

  “Maybe they found our man,” said Sergeant Keeler from the back.

  Alex shook his head. “They wouldn’t need eight helicopters.”

  When the formation disappeared over the trees, he turned his attention to the checkpoint. One of 1st Battalion’s Matvees was parked next to the concrete-barrier-lined entry road and opposite the armor-plated sentry post.

  The Matvee’s gunner peeked over the turret with binoculars, yelling down to the ranger
s, who remained out of sight. A few seconds later, the gunner held a hand out, signaling for them to stop. Sergeant Keeler reached forward and grabbed the hand microphone attached to the VHF radio set.

  “New procedures, sir. Outland Four was wiped out by two guys in a stolen police cruiser last night. That’s how they got onto the airfield. Switch me over to channel eight, sir?”

  Alex reached over his lap to select the requested channel on the AN/VRC-110 radio receiver mounted next to him.

  “It’s all you, Sergeant,” he said.

  “Outland One, this is Guardian Four-Zero, in formation with Guardian Five-Zero. Requesting permission to approach.”

  “This is Outland Four. Pull up to the stop sign and send your vehicle commander forward. We need to verify ID.”

  “Copy. Moving forward,” said Keeler, unbuckling his harness.

  “I got it, Sergeant,” Alex said. “I want to ask a few questions.”

  When the vehicle stopped, Alex hopped out and jogged up to the guard structure. His body felt sluggish on the short run up the road, like he’d just finished a long run. Combined with a dull headache, the full body stiffness wasn’t a good sign. He’d barely paid attention to the effects of the IED explosion at the FOB. Fueled up on adrenaline and the thought of smashing Eli Russell’s head in with his rifle stock, Alex had moved on autopilot until he settled into the Matvee’s seat for the thirty-minute drive. He’d almost fallen asleep twice, which was unusual for him during the morning, especially after a few cups of coffee. Maybe Kate was right, and he needed to throttle it back a little. Maybe he needed to throttle it back all the way and get checked out by one of the corpsmen.

  “He’s good to go!” yelled the Marine in the turret. “That’s Captain Fletcher.”

  One of the rangers appeared, shaking his head at the gunner as Alex handed over his ID card. The ranger vanished for a few seconds.

  “You’re clear, sir,” he said, handing the card back.

  “I just heard about Outland Four. Sorry,” said Alex. “What happened?”

  “Two shitheads dressed like cops jumped them at the checkpoint. Fuckers had a York County Sherriff’s car and everything. We caught one of them at the end of the runway, trying to set off the rest of the bombs. RRZ snatched him up real quick.”

  “What did they do with him?”

  “He’s in some kind of solitary lockup at the detention center. 4th Brigade nabbed a few more on the runway.”

  “Where’s the detention center?” said Alex.

  “One of the hangars next to the northern end of the runway,” said the ranger.

  “Any idea where the helicopters are headed?”

  “Negative, but that’s the first time I’ve seen more than two head north at the same time.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. I’ll get out of your way,” he said, turning to the turret gunner.

  “Marine, does Grady have one of these at every checkpoint?”

  “Yes, sir, and all over the inner perimeter. Half of the battalion’s vehicles are tied up,” said the corporal.

  Alex didn’t like the sound of that. With most of the Matvees tied up with airfield security, his chances of squeezing any support out of Grady dropped into the single digits.

  When Alex stepped into the TOC, Lieutenant Colonel Grady was glued to one of the widescreen monitors at the command table, talking into his ROTAC. He didn’t notice Alex until one of the Marines slammed the door to one of the storage containers, drawing his attention away from the screen. Grady held up his index finger and winked, nodding at the chair next to him. Alex mouthed, “I’m fine,” and waited for the battalion commander to finish the call. From Grady’s harsh tone and hushed voice, he guessed the RRZ Authority was on the other end of the line. Less than a minute later, Grady shook his head and slammed the radio down on the table.

  “Good news, sir?”

  “No. The good-news fairy walked off the fucking job. More shit about the blue uniforms. Good to see you in one piece, Alex,” said Grady, shaking his hand and slapping his shoulder. “Sorry about Jackson.”

  Alex was struck by the last part of Grady’s comment. He thought of himself as an outsider in the battalion, just a temporary stakeholder. Even this morning, when he apologized to Taylor for Jackson’s death, he still viewed himself as an outsider. Grady didn’t see it that way. Alex had been put in command of FOB Lakeside, and all of the Marines assigned. They were his Marines. He’d somehow forgotten.

  “You all right?” asked Grady, snapping him out of the deep thought.

  “Yes, sir. Hearing’s still a little fucked up. Ringing coming in and out,” he said, tapping his helmet. “Jackson was a good kid. Good Marine. How do they handle next-of-kin notification?”

  “Given the circumstances, I don’t know,” said Grady. “Nobody seems to know.”

  Alex watched a lone Black Hawk helicopter approach the outer tarmac, slowing to a hover in front of the lone two-story hangar north of the Marines’ compound.

  “Where did they send the helicopters?”

  “North. To raid Eli’s compound,” said Grady.

  “What? Fuck!” yelled Alex, running toward the open hangar door. “I need to be on that raid! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.”

  “Alex!” said Grady, chasing him out of the hangar. “The mission was given to 4th Brigade. No Marines involved per RRZ orders. We need all hands on deck.”

  “I saw, sir. How many of our vehicles do they have tied up with perimeter security?”

  “We had a major breach here, if you hadn’t noticed!”

  Alex shook his head. “We knew the York County Sheriff’s Department was missing a few cruisers. I had one of them show up at my house two weeks ago, right before Eli threw an entire platoon of men at my family.”

  “I submitted that intelligence through the RRZ data system and personally briefed the rangers. We did our part,” said Grady. “Surveillance camera footage indicates that the car was used to get close enough for the militia team to get lucky. We’ve modified the procedure to prevent a repeat.”

  Staring at the northern horizon, Alex balled his fists. “Where’s Eli’s compound?”

  “About five miles north of Route 25, off 160,” said Grady, wincing.

  “Imagine that. Right where I wanted to search a several days ago,” said Alex. “How did they figure it out?”

  “A few of the militia prisoners saw the light when we showed them that all of their cars had been rigged with explosives, including the buses. They were under the impression this would be a quick hit spearheaded by a few diversionary car bombs. Apparently, nobody signed up for a suicide mission.”

  “He won’t be there,” said Alex.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Eli’s too smart for that. He knew there was a chance someone would end up talking. They’ll find the place emptied out. At most, he left a small crew of expendables behind. They won’t know a damn thing about Eli’s next move.”

  “I don’t think there’s another move, Alex. Eli’s done. We identified seventy-three bodies at the airfield. Five prisoners. Taylor just called in with the count in Limerick. Thirty-one dead. For all we know, Eli burned up in his own fire at the intersection.”

  “Don’t count on it. Did they find anything in the church?”

  “Two bodies. One stabbed through the throat. The other took shrapnel from the explosion.”

  “Brilliant,” muttered Alex.

  “Brilliant?”

  “Killed two birds with one stone. Got at me while shedding his own dead weight.”

  “He only killed one of those birds,” said Grady, patting him on the shoulder.

  “Which is why we need to go after him right now. He doesn’t strike me as the type to give up on a grudge.”

  “You look like you could use a seat,” said Grady, pointing to the makeshift briefing area. “I need to discuss something with you.”

  Alex turned his head, staring directly into Grady’
s grizzled, tired face. “Sounds like I’m not getting ten vehicles to hunt down Eli.”

  “Worse. The RRZ ordered me to shut down the FOB,” said Grady.

  “When?”

  “I’m stalling on them on this,” said Grady.

  “When?”

  “Effective immediately. They’ve compressed the RRZ Security Area,” he said, looking around, “and there’s talk about declaring martial law.”

  This sealed Alex’s decision. The only thing standing between his family and a return visit from Eli was a twenty-four-hour security shield provided by 1st Battalion, 25th Marines. Even that had proven to have its limitations.

  “Martial law? I didn’t see that on the RRZ menu.”

  “Neither did I. Apparently, there’s a private menu, which requires approval from Washington. Governor Medina didn’t seem to think her request would be denied.”

  “What are we looking at?” said Alex, crumpling into one of the folding chairs.

  Grady dropped into the chair in front of Alex, facing backward.

  “They’ve drawn a five-mile circle around Sanford, then a straight line through it from the coast to the New Hampshire border. Anything in the circle, or south of the line, is subject to restricted daylight hours, strict nighttime curfew, random searches, RRZ ID card registration.”

  Alex hung his head in his scorched Kevlar-weave gloves and started laughing. “How are people supposed to register for IDs when they don’t have any way to get to their designated registration point? Nobody has a car. Someone needs to pull those fuckers out of their compound and drive them around. They might be surprised to see we got hit by an EMP.”

  “They won’t be coming out of there anytime soon. Not after this morning’s attack. As for the ID card program, someone had the foresight to design mobile card-making equipment. 1st Battalion, along with a full battalion from 4th Brigade, will go door to door in the Security Area. We start training on the gear tomorrow.”

  “I suppose you’ll be confiscating firearms at the same time,” said Alex, stifling a laugh.

  Grady just stared at him, his face betraying no reaction.

  “Jesus, Sean. This isn’t Washington, D.C., where guns are banned. More than fifty percent of this population owns a firearm. You start asking for guns, and you better be prepared for a gunfight.”