Fire Defender

by Rodney Hartman

  “Execute!”

  Cynthia glanced at the dashboard. The clock displayed 2:45.

  Chapter 30 – The Notebook

  ___________________________

  The clock on the wall of the library office showed a quarter to two in the morning. Mamie Walker yawned as she placed the last sheet of paper into the binder, then she stuffed the entire notebook into a large, reinforced manila envelope. After addressing the package to Tess’s trailer, she placed the envelope in the outgoing mail on her assistant’s desk.

  Shirley can send it out in the Monday morning mail, Mamie thought. I’ll give Tess the original when I see her at the farm, but this will make a good plan C just in case. I’m not sure why it was so hard to copy the pages with the pentagrams, but at least I got it done. Now it’s time to drag these old bones to my apartment and get a few hours of sleep. No church for me in the morning, I’m afraid.

  Stuffing the original notebook into her backpack, Mamie backed away from her desk, slung the pack over one shoulder, and walked towards the office door leading to the receptionist area for a final check before turning off the office light and heading home. A noise from beyond the door drew her attention. She peeked through the blinds covering the door’s window, her eyes drawn to two men dressed in black standing near the receptionist desk. Each of the men carried a pistol with an extension at the end of the barrel.

  Silencers, Mamie thought locking the door and backing quietly past the office’s two desks, in the direction of the rear door leading out to the employee parking lot. If I can make it to my car, maybe I can get away before they know I’m here.

  A crash behind her made Mamie spin around as a large man came busting through the back door of the office. He was followed by a second, smaller man. Both men carried pistols equipped with silencers.

  Although frightened, Mamie drew on the courage that had served her well during her younger years. She faced the two men near the back door, determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

  “Who are you?” Mamie said trying to sound calm. “Why are you here? I want you out of here before I call the police.”

  The door to the receptionist area crashed inward as the first two men she’d seen entered brandishing their weapons.

  “Shut up, you old hag,” said the largest of the two men who’d broken through the back door. “We want that notebook.”

  “Yeah,” said the smaller man. “Tell us where it is, and you won’t be harmed.”

  Mamie noticed the hint of a smile on the larger man’s face. “That’s right, Grandma. All we want is the notebook. Now cough it up, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Do you promise?” Mamie said doing her best to feign weakness.

  The larger man grinned. “Oh yeah, we promise. Now where is it?”

  “I’m old,” Mamie said. “Please don’t hurt me. You can have the notebook. Just promise you won’t hurt me.”

  “Come on, lady,” said the smaller man pointing his pistol at her. “We don’t have all night.”

  Both the larger and smaller men lowered their weapons slightly. The smaller man smiled what was almost a friendly smile.

  Mamie wasn’t fooled. She could almost feel the barrels of the two men behind her centered on her back. She slipped the backpack off and unzipped the top, then reached inside. She listened to the shuffling feet of the two men behind her, gauging their positions from the sound, and made a rough calculation in her head. She thought of her sister and nephew. She thought of the girl, Tess, who was quickly becoming the daughter she’d never had.

  One way or the other, I’m dead, Mamie thought. She laughed out loud. At least I’m not going to die wasting away in my bed. That’s something anyway.

  “What’s so funny, lady?” said the larger man. “Snap it up, or I swear you’ll wish you had.”

  “Don’t hurt me,” Mamie pleaded putting all the old-lady-like sound into it she could. “The notebook’s right here. You can have it.”

  Pulling her hand out of the backpack, Mamie spun on her heels and snapped off a shot at the left-most man behind her with her .44 snub-nose, firing on the fly. Flame jumped out of her pistol’s barrel in the dim light of the office. Mamie didn’t waste time trying to see if the round hit. Although she hadn’t fired her pistol in years, she’d always hit what she aimed at. Snapping off a second shot at the right-most man, she saw a splash of red on his chest. The man was flung through the office door, into the receptionist area, spraying blood into the air as he went.

  Trying to spin around to face the two men by the back door, Mamie’s ankle gave way, causing her third shot to go wide of its mark. The two men dove for cover behind Shirley’s desk, returning fire as they went. Mamie felt something hot bite into her left shoulder and fell to the floor pulling the trigger of her pistol twice more. Another bite in her chest knocked the breath out of her lungs.

  From her position on the floor, Mamie spied a leg under Shirley’s desk. Despite her pain, she took the time to aim before firing her final round. The leg under the desk jerked back streaming blood and a piercing scream filled the air.

  Crawling for her backpack and the extra speed loader she kept inside, Mamie cursed her aged body. The strength of her youth was long gone. She saw a black boot near her face. Looking up, she stared into the two hate-filled eyes of the larger man. He pointed his pistol at her head.

  “Tough old bird, aren’t you, Grandma? We’ll see how tough you are with a hole between your eyes.”

  Mamie hacked a ball of liquid into her mouth and spat it at the big man. The spittle fell short, but the hatred in the man’s eyes grew more intense. She never heard the popping sound of the pistol or the drawing of her last breath.

  * * *

  Mick fired twice more before kicking the lifeless body of Mamie Walker. He looked at his wounded partner’s bloody boot. “She did a number on your leg, MacDonald. You’re just going to slow us down.”

  “I’ll be all right,” said MacDonald. “Just give me—”

  The sound of another pop was followed by the crash of a body hitting the floor.

  “Yeah, you’ll be all right now,” Mick said stepping over his former companion’s body.

  He reached down and picked up the old lady’s backpack. Pulling out a notebook, he flipped through the pages, smiling when he saw several drawings of pentagrams along with dozens of pages full of typed and handwritten notes.

  Mick thumbed the switch on his microphone. “I’ve got the book. I’ve got three men down. The old bird was tough. What do I do now?”

  The sound of Colonel Harrison’s voice came over the receiver. “We’re making our assault now. Return to the safe house. We’ll meet you there after we get the rings.”

  “Is Mr. Gray with the assault team?” Mick asked. The old lady had taken out three-quarters of his team, leaving him wondering if discreet might’ve been a better approach. “You may need all the help you can get.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” snapped the colonel. “Get to the safe house. That’s an order.”

  Mick pulled an incendiary grenade off his belt, stepped to the door leading to the receptionist area, and tossed the grenade towards the rows of books in the library proper. He set the second grenade on a bin in the office marked OUTGOING MAIL. The incendiary grenades went off as he ran out the back door, into the parking lot. Opening the driver’s door of his SUV, he tossed the notebook onto the passenger seat, started the engine, and wasted no time making for the street. The library was fully engulfed in flames before he got two blocks down the road. The man looked at the notebook in the passenger seat thinking of the large bonus he was bound to get.

  The Alliance can do nothing now. Soon the rest of the team will have the rings. Everything’s going according to plan.

  Chapter 31 – Night Assault

  __________________

  Myiata Johnson sat on the wooden chair in the cellar sorting through gear. Occasionally, she stuck an item in one of the two packs she was making
for Tess and Alec. She glanced at the wall clock. It showed sixteen minutes ’til two.

  Been at this for over an hour now, she thought. I should be sleepy, but I’m not. I hate getting old. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages. That’s the trouble with getting old. Your body doesn’t want to cooperate.

  Looking around, Myiata remembered when her husband had first brought her to the secret cellar room. He’d explained that the reinforced-concrete room had been utilized by a few not so law-abiding Johnson’s during the prohibition era. The Johnson clan of the time had brought in liquor from Canada and kept it in the room until it could be divvied up among the local speakeasies. She remembered her husband being quite proud of his family’s wild heritage. Few knew of the room’s existence.

  Rubbing her eyes, Myiata picked up a hunting knife and added it to Alec’s pack. Once done, she nodded her head and yawned. That does it. I’ve done all I can. Time for bed, old girl. I’m glad my room’s next to the kitchen instead of upstairs. These old bones have a hard time with stairs nowadays.

  The thought of the challenges ahead and her own inadequacies threatened to overwhelm her. She thrust the feeling of despair aside. I’ll do what needs to be done. I wish I was younger, but I’m not. I’ll just have to deal with it.

  The ring on her right hand tingled. Myiata stared down noticing that the bluish glow of her ring was intermingled with flashes of yellow. A feeling of concern that seemed to come from the ring swept over her.

  Suddenly, the lights in the cellar went out.

  Overcoming her initial confusion, Myiata fumbled in the pack to her front and pulled out a flashlight. Flicking it on, the beam illuminated the side door that opened to the escape tunnel leading to the barn. She knew it had been put in by the Johnson clan well before they’d gotten into the whiskey smuggling business. Shining the light at the wall, she noticed the second hand on the wall clock frozen on the twelve. The other two hands were frozen at a quarter ’til two.

  The feeling of concern washed over her more intense than ever. Myiata heard a creak overhead. Several creaks, in fact.

  There’s at least two people in the kitchen and more in the living room. What’s going on?

  An image of the farmhouse came into Myiata’s mind, though she didn’t know how or why. In her mind, she saw figures dressed in black carrying automatic weapons and pistols arranged around the house, covering both the front and back doors. All of the figures were wearing sophisticated looking night-vision equipment. She sensed more than saw other figures in the kitchen and on the stairs leading to the upstairs bedrooms. Fear swept over her.

  Alec and Tess.

  * * *

  Some hint of a noise drew Tess out of her sleep. After years of listening in the middle of the night for her dad to drag himself home, she’d trained herself to be a light sleeper. She strained her ears but heard nothing out of the ordinary. The old farmhouse was as quiet as the proverbial church mouse. Glancing at the nightstand to see the time, she saw only darkness.

  The clock’s not on. Did we lose electricity?

  Rising off her pillow enough to look out the window, Tess noticed that the porch light was on at Scott’s house. From what she could see, other houses past the cul-de-sac also had lights. She looked through the crack at the bottom of the room’s door, confirming it was pitch-dark in the hallway.

  I’m sure there was a night light in the hall. We must’ve lost electricity, but why only this house?

  With no answer coming to mind and too tired to try and figure it out, Tess lay back on the pillow. A soft creaking noise made her jerk upright and to the edge of the bed.

  I know that sound. It’s the same creaking noise I heard when I walked upstairs. Tess tried to think of who might be on the stairs. Maybe Alec went downstairs to get a drink or something?

  Reaching for her cellphone, Tess noted the time. The display showed a quarter ’til two.

  Another creak came from the stairway. The noise cut off immediately as if someone didn’t want to make any sound.

  Alec wouldn’t have stopped. Neither would Grandma. What’s going on?

  A warm feeling in her right hand drew Tess’s attention. Glancing down, she noticed the yellow gem in her ring beginning to glow. A warmth spread up her arm and throughout her body. The darkness in the room was replaced by black and white images. Everything in the room became visible in crisp detail.

  Looking out the window with her night vision, she noticed several vehicles parked in the cul-de-sac. A figure in a gray robe was standing near an SUV. The figure glanced up and stared straight at her window as if he could see her there looking at him. She sensed more than saw a thin smile on his face.

  Movement in the front yard forced Tess’s attention from the robed man. She saw several figures in dark uniforms carrying what appeared to be assault rifles.

  Why are people in the yard with guns? she thought as she got out of bed and crept to the bedroom door.

  Spying a baseball bat leaning against the dresser near the door, Tess picked it up with her right hand. She eased the door open a half inch and looked down the hall toward the stairs. Although the hallway was dark, she saw everything clearly in black and white.

  A man wearing some type of goggles was just placing his foot on the last step. He held a pistol with a silencer attached to the barrel in his right hand. Other men dressed in dark outfits were coming up the stairs behind him.

  The ring on Tess’s finger tingled harder as an even stronger feeling of heat ran up her arm. I’ve got to do something, she thought. The question is what. They’ve got guns. I’ve got a lousy baseball bat. She didn’t need to be told she was hopelessly outgunned and outnumbered. I need a diversion, she thought.

  Unfortunately, none came to mind.

  * * *

  Myiata grabbed a double-barreled shotgun off the wall of the secret room, broke open the breech, and shoved two loads of buckshot into the chambers. Wishing she had her 9mm pistol and the pump shotgun in her bedroom, she snapped the barrel shut.

  It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got. It’ll have to be enough. Someone’s about to find out they picked the wrong house to break into.

  Myiata took it for granted that whoever was invading her home had cut off the electricity. She walked next to the stairs, placing her hand on the emergency start button for the backup generator. Taking two deep breaths, she pressed the button at the same time as she began running up the stairs. The generator caught as she hit the third step. By the time she got to the top, the lights had come back on.

  Dropping her flashlight, Myiata grasped the shotgun with both hands and kicked open the secret panel in the kitchen next to the cupboard. She saw two men carrying assault rifles in the process of raising their night-vision equipment into the stored position. Myiata didn’t give them time to complete their maneuver.

  Boom! Boom!

  The buckshot caught one man in the back of the head and the other full in the face as he turned around.

  Myiata rushed forward. Her left leg twisted, spilling her to the floor, and she heard the sound of cracking bone. Crawling forward, she grabbed the nearest dropped assault rifle, then hunted for the safety. She located the switch, finding it was off. Pulling herself up onto her already healing leg, Myiata stepped through the doorway leading to the living room. The stairs were to her left. Pulling the trigger on her confiscated weapon, she sent a spray of bullets into the lower half of the stairs, keeping her aim intentionally low to avoid hitting the kids. Her rounds caught two men in the chest, knocking them back into the stairs. Two more men farther up the steps sent a burst of rounds in her direction. One round tore a hole in her shoulder and knocked her against the wall. A second round hit her just above the right knee. As she fell to the floor, the assault rifle went flying from her hands.

  Looking up, Myiata saw one of the two remaining men aim a pistol at her head. She looked into the barrel of the large-bore weapon, having no doubt she was going to die in a few seconds. She thought of
the kids helpless upstairs. Struggling to rise, she fell back to the floor still too weak to move. Myiata felt the warmth of the ring’s healing power in her shoulder and leg. From experience she knew it would take a few seconds to complete. The murderous look in the man’s eyes told Myiata she didn’t have a few seconds left.

  “So you’re the one who can heal?” said the man aiming the gun at her head. “Heal this.”

  The man fired a single shot between Myiata’s eyes. She felt a millisecond of pain followed by absolute darkness. Then she sensed nothing.

  “Get the ring,” the man who’d fired ordered another man. “Cut her hand off if you need too. Make it snappy before she heals.”

  The second man moved down the stairs and stepped over the bloody figures of his two companions, then pulled a large knife from his belt. “The pleasure will be all mine.”

  * * *

  The lights flickered on. As soon as they did, Tess heard a boom followed closely by a second boom. A second later, she heard the unmistakable sound of automatic weapon’s fire from downstairs.

  Through the crack in the bedroom door, she saw the two men at the top of the stairs turn and fire. She made out the voice of one of the men saying, “Cut her hand off if you need too. Make it snappy before she heals.”

  Tess could just see the second man as he drew a knife and started down the stairs. Opening the door, she rushed for the stairs, bat thrust out like a baton, and caught the nearest man at the point where his spine met the base of his skull. She heard a loud crunch. The man fell forward and hit the man below who’d begun turning around with a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other. Forgoing her years of martial-arts training, Tess struck the second man with her bat like she was trying for a home run. When the wooden bat made contact with the side of the man’s head, teeth and blood went flying as the man hit the wall and rebounded over the stair’s side railing. He fell onto a curio cabinet below, sending shards of glass and broken figurines across the living room floor. The man’s legs twitched once before remaining still.