Liberation Day - A Thorn Byrd Novel

by Dustin Stevens

The single flight of stairs from Gold’s office had never felt so long. With each passing step Ling felt his knee tighten a little more, the acrimony within him burning hot. Forcing into place a façade of mirrored calm, he pushed his pace as fast as his leg would allow as he passed through the middle foyer of the mansion. As he made a turn down the main corridor toward the exit, he could hear shouting originating from the guard’s room, the outburst doing nothing to quell his dark mood.

  “Whoo! You see the body on that thing?” one voice exclaimed.

  “Damn shame she’s with that little pencil dick,” another added. “I could show her a thing or two!”

  “Ha!” a third chimed in. “Why the hell would she want you two when she could go for a ride on a stallion?”

  With each uneven step Ling felt his insides simmer, his face twisting itself into a mask of rage. He could hear the voices grow louder as he approached, swinging out from the hallway and into the room. His sudden appearance stopped all three guards where they stood, each of them staring in abject fear at him, their mouths hanging open.

  “Are you assholes about done in here?” he seethed. “A damn army could storm the halls and you wouldn’t know it right now.”

  Mouths still agape, all three diverted their eyes like scolded children.

  Ling surveyed the room, letting them feel his glare on their skin. “Anybody want to tell me what the hell has you in here yelling like idiots?”

  The three remained silent, each of them fidgeting and avoiding eye contact. With measured hatred, Ling looked at them in turn and walked forward into the room. As he moved, the three men pushed to the side, making a path to the video bank behind them.

  Gone were the images of the various cameras around the perimeter, in their place a single image of a girl in a white bikini holding a fishing pole.

  In one quick and fluid movement Ling snapped his hand out for the guard closest to him, closing his fingers around a fistful of flesh and shirt. He used the grip to draw the man close, ignoring the tiny whimper that escaped him.

  “You took down every security camera we have for this?”

  “Uh, well,” the man stammered as Ling tightened his grip and began to twist. A low moan rolled up from deep in the man’s throat as Ling turned his head and again stared at the image on the screen. He remained in the same position as recognition began to settle in. “Where did you get this?”

  The man opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds came out.

  Using his free hand, Ling smacked the man across the face, the sound of skin-on-skin contact loud in the room. Maintaining his grip, he shifted his attention to the other two, both having retreated back against the wall.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “The docks,” the man on the right finally managed. “They said she went by a little bit ago and sent it up here for us to look at.”

  Shoving the man away, Ling whirled on the ball of his foot and limped away, leaving all three men terrified behind him. Raising his gait to an uneven jog, he passed back into the main foyer and shot down a diagonal hallway, the corridor just one more of many extended out like spokes on a wheel.

  At the end of it he passed through a black metal door, the release latch sounding out as he pushed it open, and descended two long flights of stairs.

  The elevator would have been easier on his knee, but anger and opportunity fueled him as he took the steps two at time. At the bottom, he pushed open a matching door, emerging along the indoor dock.

  In a few quick steps he made it to the guardhouse door and burst inside, the startled guard staring at him with the same shocked expression as the men upstairs.

  “How long ago did that fishing boat go through?” Ling snapped, standing in the doorway with a hand on either side of the frame. “The fishing boat! The girl in the bikini! How long ago, you idiot?!”

  The man blinked twice, his entire body rigid. “Um, not long. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  “And you didn’t stop them?”

  “We watched them the whole way,” the guard managed. “They didn’t stop or slow down at all. Didn’t even quit fishing as they went.”

  “Fools,” Ling hissed, spitting the word out at the man. “Which way did they go?”

  “Uh, north,” the guard managed, nothing more than his mouth and eyes having moved in the entire interaction.

  “What’s the fastest boat you have here?”

  The man reached up behind him, grabbing a set of keys from a hook on the wall and tossing them to Ling. “The Apache. Black one on the end.”

  “Open the gate,” Ling said, pushing himself away from the frame and heading in the opposite direction. Gone was any consideration for his knee as he strode forward, sighting in on the Apache.

  As we walked, he pointed at a man scrubbing down the neighboring boat, snapping his finger over to the black speedboat on the end. “Put that shit down and get over here.”

  The man did as commanded, scrambling up onto the walkway and hopping into the boat. Ling tossed him the keys and untied the mooring line, watching as the overhead door opened before them.

  “Where to?” the driver asked, starting the engine, the entire body of the craft vibrating with coiled power. Easing the throttle down just a bit, he pushed them out of the hidden harbor, the bright afternoon sun bathing them in a golden hue.

  “North. Fast,” Ling said, removing the fedora from his head and leaning forward. The wind increased in his face as the boat picked up speed, pushing his hair back against his head.

  The front end of the boat rocked up and slammed back down into the water as pure horsepower pushed them forward along the shoreline. A large rooster tail of water shot out behind them as they picked up speed.

  Even at full speed, it took a full five minutes before an object took shape on the horizon before them.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight