by Ethan Cross
~~*~~
Twenty minutes north of DC, the Motel 6 in Frederick, MD was the perfect place for the group to meet. It wasn’t cheap or dirty enough to make anyone’s skin crawl, and it wasn’t fancy enough to draw any attention or raise questions when they paid for two adjoining rooms with cash.
As they waited for the others to arrive, Deacon sat on one of the beds without speaking or moving. He entered completely into his own mind as if the rest of the world no longer existed. Annabelle laid down on the room’s other bed and watched him think.
When she was a girl, Deacon Munroe had been her guardian angel. Although he had always played it off as no big thing, he looked out for her on more than one occasion. Once, he stood up to his father and took a beating that should have been hers. On another occasion, when they were in junior high, a boy from his class named Ricky Ross had started teasing her and hurling racially charged insults on a near daily basis. Deacon hadn’t walked up and punched the boy in the face or threatened him physically like her brother or Jonas Black would have likely done. Instead, he picked the lock on the boy’s PE locker and replaced Ricky’s gym clothes with lacy women’s underwear. Once Ricky’s anger from the humiliation died down, Deacon approached Ricky with Annabelle in tow. The young Deacon Munroe told Ricky in a calm conversational voice that if he so much as looked at Annabelle with unkind eyes, then next time it would be much worse. Next time, Deacon would steal the answers to a test from a teacher’s desk and make sure that Ricky was caught with them. Or perhaps he would stash a bag of weed in Ricky’s locker and get him expelled outright. Ricky had blustered and threatened, but the icy determination in Deacon’s eyes had ensured that Ricky didn’t attempt any retaliation and never spoke ill of Annabelle again.
Deacon had once told her that he believed justice to be a myth, but he definitely believed in balance. And that was the kind of thinking that shaped his life.
They had gone their separate ways after school. She had become an investigator at an expensive law firm in Baltimore and married a cruel and distant man who worked out of the District Attorney’s office. She had wanted children, but he refused. He seemed to hate children, and half the time, she felt that he hated her as well. Deacon, on the other hand, had married a kind and quiet woman with whom Annabelle became fast friends. After Beth died and her divorce became finalized, she had often considered pursuing a relationship with Deacon, and she knew that he harbored feelings for her as well. But she worried that it would feel like a betrayal to Beth or that it would ruin the close relationship that they already had. Perhaps their own histories together were too much to overcome, and they’d both be better off meeting someone with whom they could start fresh.
She really didn’t know what to think about Deacon anymore or where things would go between them. But she knew that she loved him and never wanted to see him get hurt.
An hour later, Jonas Black and Joey arrived and introduced her to Katherine O’Connell, the NCIS agent who had worked Corrigan’s original case. The beautiful young redhead seemed confident and competent and had no problem holding her own with the men in the room. Katherine and Black detailed the attempt on their lives and what they learned from the records contained in Gelman’s storage unit.
Munroe said, “As long as his condition doesn’t deteriorate, the doctors in Leavenworth plan to wake Corrigan from the coma the day after tomorrow. He’s apparently recovering well.”
“Great,” Black added. “Just in time for his execution.”
Annabelle nodded in agreement. “If he lives that long. They may try to finish what they started and arrange another accident for him. Who’s going to ask questions about a guy that’s about to be executed anyway.”
“We have to do something,” Black said, running his hands over his close-cropped hair. “Munroe, can’t you call in a favor? Get Corrigan a stay of execution or an appeal?”
“With what evidence?”
“We sure have a lot of dead bodies.”
“Yes, but what does that prove? Just that someone’s trying to kill us. The reasons why are nothing but speculation. The only actual evidence we’ve seen is a flash drive that we can’t access and a piece of paper that Almeida took from you. We have nothing that could save John Corrigan’s life, and without Corrigan, we probably won’t have any way to stop whatever’s happening.”
“Almeida didn’t talk like this is just about money or covering up a business deal. He acted like something was coming.”
“Like an attack?” Annabelle asked.
“I don’t know. He called the leaders of our country a pack of bullies and said that an operation ordered by our government failed to kill Ramon Castillo but succeeded in murdering the kingpin’s family. He called it a war.”
Katherine stood and paced the small motel room. She unwrapped a king-size Butterfinger and bit off large chunks of chocolate and peanut butter. Between bites, she said, “This is my fault. I didn’t dig deep enough, and now an innocent man is going to die because of my incompetence.”
Munroe shook his head. “You followed where the evidence led you like any good investigator. The problem is that in this case, the evidence lies. Still, the way I see it, we only have one option on how to proceed.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back against the headboard. “We’re going to have to stage a good old-fashioned jailbreak.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Silence filled the small motel room. Black couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “Did you get hit on the head? You’re federal agents. You don’t go around busting death row inmates out of jail.”
“If you have a better idea, then I’m all ears,” Munroe said.
Black clenched his fists and fought to keep his voice down. “I don’t want any part of this. Since I’ve met you, I’ve been shot at, nearly beaten to death, drugged, and almost drowned. I should have stayed in the hole and finished out my stretch. I was better off. Listen, I want to save John, and I’d love to see these guys brought to justice. But I have my own problems, and I don’t care about any of this enough to give my life or get thrown back in prison.”
Munroe nodded. “I completely understand, Mr. Black. This is a whole lot more than what you signed up for. We’ll proceed without you.”
“You can’t be serious. No one in this room is going to go along with this plan.” He looked to Katherine and Annabelle for support.
Katherine took a deep breath and said softly, “I’m in.”
Annabelle added, “Me too. Somebody has to keep Deacon from getting himself killed.”
Joey said, “I’m not much good in a fight, but I’ll help you on the back end of things.”
Black threw up his hands. “You’re all nuts. Do you have any idea the kind of security that the USDB has? It’s a fortress guarded by highly trained soldiers. Inmates have digital smart cards that are matched with their fingerprints. There are readers in every cell, room, and hallway. They don’t even have bed checks or roll calls because the computer knows where everyone is at every moment. It’s impossible, and even if you could pull it off somehow, it would take months of planning and work. You said that they’re waking Corrigan up tomorrow.”
“All that’s true,” Munroe replied. “But Corrigan isn’t inside Leavenworth. The prison infirmary wasn’t equipped to handle his injuries, and so they moved him to a regular hospital nearby. He’s laid up in a medically induced coma. I highly doubt that they have a man in his condition under heavy guard.”
“All of us would still go to prison for breaking him out.”
“Only if we get caught. We’ll disable the hospital’s security systems and take precautions to ensure that we won’t be identified in other ways. No one will know who helped Corrigan escape, and by the time anyone can figure anything out, the man will be exonerated. If Corrigan can help get us the evidence we need, I have enough friends in the government to make the minor detail
of his escape a total nonissue.”
“And what happens if we can’t clear his name? If he can’t give you what you need and the investigation stalls out? What then?”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”
Black said, “Even if you can get him out of the hospital, the cops will be all over you. They’ll block all escape routes and have every officer in a hundred miles out searching.”
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Black laughed derisively. “Great. Let me know how all that works out for you.” Then he stormed from the room and slammed the door behind him.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Katherine opened the motel room door and followed Black outside. She found the big man leaning over the third floor railing and watching a couple with two young kids hauling suitcases into one of the rooms as the kids ran circles around them. She leaned against the cool white metal next to him. The scent of grease and fish from a nearby seafood restaurant mixed with exhaust fumes from US 40 wafted up on a breeze ten degrees too cool for that time of year. She didn’t say a word. If Black wanted to talk, then he would.
They stood in silence for a few minutes before Jonas said, “You know the funny thing about this idea. The federal agents are all on board, and the convict is the only one with any sense. I knew from the first time I met Munroe that I shouldn’t have trusted him. You know why he wants me around? Why he got me out of prison?”
“Because he thought you could talk Corrigan into cooperating.”
“That was only part of it. On my first night out, I overheard him telling Annabelle that I’m just a big, dumb animal. He said that I was an attack dog who he needed to avenge his friend’s death.”
“That’s not true.”
“Which part?”
“You’re not dumb, Jonas. Munroe just said that because he was angry about his friend’s death. Grief can make you do crazy things.”
“Exactly, and that’s what I’m afraid of. That Munroe will do something crazy, and all of us will pay the price.” He looked deeply into her eyes and leaned close. He smelled like he’d gone for a swim in the Potomac, but she guessed that she smelled the same way. “Don’t do this. Don’t go with him.”
She analyzed her feelings a moment, searching for a way to explain them. Then she said, “I have to. The truth is that Corrigan’s case was handed to me gift wrapped, and I didn’t question any of it. I had something to prove. I was trying to close more cases that year than any other agent in the office. And I succeeded. But I can’t help but wonder how many things I overlooked. I keep thinking of my brother. A soldier that has given so much for his country, and I didn’t even take the time to exhaust every possibility. That poor man lost his family, and then I helped put him on death row. He’s going to die because of me, and I can’t accept that.”
“There has to be another way.”
“I don’t see one. And It’s not like we’re just going to let him go. We’ll simply make sure that he’s alive long enough for this mess to be sorted out. I think Munroe’s right. We could get him out without being identified. We should at least listen to his ideas on how to escape the area. Corrigan was your friend, Jonas.”
“I understand why you feel that you have to do this, but I can’t. I have my own sins to atone for.”
She thought of the story he had shared with her at dinner. It had only been a few hours earlier, but it felt like it had been much longer. He had told her about coming home from Afghanistan and being tired and depressed and needing to blow off some steam. He convinced his brother, Michael, to come out with him, and after a long night of binge drinking, Jonas had driven them home drunk. He fell asleep and wrapped the car around a tree. He survived. Michael didn’t.
Black quickly wiped at his eyes, and she wondered if he was crying. He said, “I had a lot of time to think about the future when I was on the inside. My only hope, the thing that kept me going, was the thought of getting out and helping to support my brother’s family. I have a nephew and a sister-in-law out there that could still use my help financially, even though they’ll never forgive me for what I did. I just wanted to find work of some kind and drop anonymous checks in the mail. Their own personal guardian angel. I know that I can never make it right. I can’t bring Michael back from the dead, but I can protect what he left behind. I owe him that and a whole lot more. I can’t go back to prison, not for Corrigan, not for anything or anyone.”
CHAPTER SIXTY
As Annabelle helped load their bags into the Yukon for the trip to Kansas, she wondered if she was going along with Deacon’s plans for the right reasons. She wished that Gerald was there. He would have known the right path. Any time Deacon had been tempted by his cavalier and reckless spirit, Gerald had countered with reason and accountability.
A dark-blue BMW Z4 Roadster pulled up beside the Yukon and broke her reflection. It was still the middle of the night, and the expensive convertible’s appearance couldn’t have been a coincidence. This had to be the friend that Munroe had contacted. A small man in jeans and a polo shirt stepped from the vehicle and approached her. “Where’s Munroe?”
“I’ll get him. Wait here.”
A moment later, she returned with Deacon in tow. Munroe greeted the man warmly, but the stranger did not reciprocate. “This makes us even, Munroe,” the small man said. Then he retrieved an aluminum briefcase from his trunk and handed it to Annabelle. The man’s eyes darted around the parking lot during the whole exchange. Sweat ran down his forehead, and his hands shook. To Munroe, he said in a trembling voice, “You can’t get caught with this. I logged it into the system as being destroyed during a test and disposed of. If this unit turns up somewhere, they’ll track it back to our lab and to me. I’ll lose everything.”
With a smile, Munroe said, “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in prison now anyway. Just remember that. You have to be tough if you’re going to be dumb. Well, you’ve been dumb, now man up and face the consequences.”
“This makes us even,” the man said again.
“We’ll see. Have a good night.”
The small man dropped back into his car and pulled from the lot. Katherine came down the concrete motel stairs and said, “Who was that?”
“Just an old friend who has a contract to develop less-than-lethal weaponry for the DOD.”
“What’s in the case?”
Munroe smiled. “Something that could prove very useful. I’ll fill you in on the details during the drive to Leavenworth.”
Munroe climbed into the back of the SUV, and Annabelle and Katherine finished packing up all the equipment and clothing. She was about to close down the back hatch when Jonas Black threw his duffle into the back atop the other bags.
“I’m driving,” was all he said as he climbed behind the wheel.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
During the sixteen hour drive to Leavenworth, Munroe explained his plans, and then they all tried to get some much needed rest. Jonas had driven for the first eight hours and then Annabelle had taken over so that he could sleep. He was keyed up, but it was an essential skill for a soldier to turn off the rest of the world and sleep when they had the chance. Along the way, they stopped at a specialty shop that sold costumes, stage makeup, and wigs.
With a yawn, Jonas leaned up from the back seat and said, “What are we doing here?”
Munroe seemed to brace himself before responding. “We need to get wigs and facial prosthetics for Katherine and Annabelle. That way any eyewitness reports or facial sketches will be wrong.”
“But why the hell would they need that? I’m the one going into that hospital to get Corrigan.”
Munroe took a deep breath. “No, Mr. Black, you’re going to drive the truck. Your size and tattoos make you too memorable.”
Black slammed his palm against the back of Munroe’s seat. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
Katherine said, “Mind yourself, Jonas. You know he’s right. You being protective and all is sweet, in an oafish sort of way, but we’re big girls. We can take of ourselves just fine.”
Black clenched his jaw and checked his watch. “You had better get what you need. We’re not going to have much daylight left to get the truck and scout the area.”
~~*~~
After finalizing the last elements of the plan, they spent the night in the vehicles. Munroe had suggested that they limit any interactions in the area—including gas stations, restaurants, and hotels. Those would be the first places that the police would canvas asking questions about a group of people in a dark Yukon. And, hotels often kept logs of the license plates of their visitors, which they couldn’t allow.
The next morning, Katherine and Annabelle took turns changing each other’s appearance using the items purchased at the costume shop. The disguises wouldn’t stand up to much scrutiny, but they didn’t plan to let anyone get a good look at them.
Then they said their goodbyes and split up. Katherine kissed Black on the cheek and enjoyed seeing the big man’s tanned face turn red. The two men stayed with the newly acquired rental truck, and Katherine and Annabelle drove off in the Yukon after removing the SUV’s license plates.
As the collection of red brick buildings surrounded by trees that comprised the Dwight D. Eisenhower VA Medical Center came into view ahead, a wave of doubt and fear overwhelmed Katherine and made her second-guess herself. Maybe Black was right? Maybe there was another way? If she moved forward with the plan, she would cross the line from law enforcement to fugitive. But despite her doubts, she still couldn’t think of a better solution given the extenuating circumstances.
Neither she nor Annabelle said a word as they parked the Yukon and retrieved the aluminum case that Munroe’s reluctant acquaintance had provided. Katherine popped the locks on the case and stuffed one of the tranquilizer guns into her coat. Munroe had said that the guns fired a 1.5 ml dart with a 72 gm CO² cartridge as propellant. The darts that the guns used as ammunition contained a sedative that was supposed to act within a two-thousandth of a second, faster than the nerve conduction velocity. Which meant that the guards would go down instantly without being able to pull a weapon or trigger an alarm. She handed the other tranq gun to Annabelle along with a pair of sophisticated-looking earplugs. As she closed the case, she prayed that the tranquilizers and the other strange device lived up to Munroe’s claims.
