by J. M. LeDuc
As they ate, Donavan said, “When did you become so religious, Miss Smith?”
“It’s the one thing Joseph taught me that I am most grateful for.”
He didn’t say another word. The three ate in silence for the remainder of the meal. As coffee was served, Donavan addressed the ladies. “After your coffee, you may look at the rest of my collection, if you wish. Then I suggest you get some sleep. I expect my men to return around four in the morning. You’ll be woken at that time to begin your work. Goodnight, ladies.”
“Goodnight, sir.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Ferric.”
He rang a bell next to his place setting and Thomas arrived within seconds to take him to his room. The girls drank their coffee while they strolled around the large dining room admiring the artwork. They rang the bell when they had finished and the butler returned to escort them to their room.
In silence they prepared for bed, said a prayer to thank God for all he had done for them and then drifted off into a restless sleep. Even though God was telling them they would be all right, their human nature remained frightened and nervous.”
CHAPTER 49
It was 5:45 p.m. on a late October day. Dusk had settled over the sleepy town of Palm Cove. Townspeople were winding down from their busy day, all except Brent. He was warming up. As if on cue, he rose from his cool cement slab of a bed just as the sun set. Brent had been accustomed to working nights. Every mission the Phantom Squad carried out was at night. Even after his so-called retirement from the squad, he tended to stay up late. He could go to bed at two in the morning and get up at five, ready to start a new day.
The first thing Brent did was to check for phone messages. He immediately saw that Maddie had text messaged him. Good girl, Maddie. I knew you’d get to Chloe, he thought. Thank God, you’re both safe, at least for now. If everything went as he envisioned, they would all be together, having dinner, at this time tomorrow. He checked for other messages, but there were none, though he hadn’t really expected any.
Brent stretched, cracking his back into shape. Just before he left the security of his basement, he made a phone call. The back line at The Loft rang and Benny answered. “The Loft, Benny speaking. How can I help you?”
“Benny, this is Brent. I need to talk quick. Do you still have that table set up in your storeroom where you used to hold the poker game?”
“Sure, is everything okay?”
“It will be,” Brent answered. “Do me a favor. Unlock the outside door to the storeroom. I’ll need to use it until midnight or so. Is that all right?”
“It’s yours. What else you need?”
“That’s it. No, wait. Do you still have your night dive gear?”
“It’s in the storeroom in the back. You want me get it out for you?”
“No, I’ll find it. Thanks, Benito.”
Brent placed the phone in his pants pocket and stepped into the night. He headed straight for the beach. It was a new moon, so there was absolutely no light at the beach. This, along with the fact that the humidity of the south Florida summer had finally broken would make his short hump to The Loft much easier.
Standing on the white soft sand, Brent looked up to the heavens, said a silent prayer and started running. As he ran, his demeanor changed. In fact, it seemed as if his entire being changed from Brent to Captain Venturi, leader of the Phantom Squad. The transformation was so complete, it was almost visible to the eye.
His expression became so non-emotional that it was frightening. The more expressionless he became, the more acute his senses were. He could see and hear things that most people couldn’t.
The faster he ran, the more relaxed and silent his breathing became. His steps were so light they barely left a footprint. This is the way he always stayed until a mission was completed. Then he would make an equally dramatic transformation back into being Brent.
As suddenly as he started running, he stopped. Directly opposite him was Third Avenue and the alley behind The Loft. He wouldn’t let his mind travel to Chloe and how he first met her here yesterday. He had to stay focused and clear-headed if he expected to rescue her and Maddie, bring down Ferric and save the Endowment, all at the same time. There was no room for mistakes. Even the smallest would be deadly for someone.
Silent and quick, Brent crossed the street and the parking lot that led to Benny’s storeroom. He entered through the door Benny had left open for him and turned on the lights. Eyeing the green felt card table, Brent took off his backpack and removed the street map of Palm Cove and the architectural drawings of Ferric’s home.
He spread them out so they were in plain view. Then he went over to where Benny kept his scuba gear and found what he was looking for, Benny’s underwater flashlight and weight belt. He slid off the weights he wouldn’t need then placed the two items with the rest of his equipment. He checked his watch for the time: 6:40 p.m. That gave him an hour and twenty minutes before anyone got there, if anyone was coming at all.
Back at the table, Brent used a pencil to mark on the drawing every place Maddie had said there was a camera or guard. On a blank piece of paper, he drew a more detailed rendering of the third floor of Ferric’s home. Just as he finished, he heard footsteps by the door. Quickly, silently, Brent moved to the door, pulling his knife from its sheath. Brent’s pulse didn’t change as the door opened. His pulse always quickened when he sensed danger. Thinking his senses weren’t as acute as they’d been in the past, he held his position, ready to attack.
The person entered the room and switched on the lights. “Why’s it so dark in here? You sleepy or something?” Benny’s voice broke the tension Brent felt.
“I thought I told you not to come down here!”
Brent’s appearance had startled Benny. “Is that you?” he asked. “What happened your hair and…”
“It’s me, Benny, now go back upstairs.”
“Hey, it’s my home, remember? I thought you and…” he looked around the room, “your friends would wanna some coffee.”
“They haven’t arrived yet, and yes, I would love some coffee.” Brent took the tray Benny held and set it down on the table. “Your generosity warms my heart, my friend, but I do need to ask you to leave.”
“Generous, nothing. Truth is, I was curious, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Now get back upstairs. I’ll fill you in later.”
“You better or no more cappuccinos for you and your lady. Hey, where is she?”
“Benito!”
“Okay, I’ma going.” Then he added, “If you’re still here, I bring sandwiches down at nine o’clock.”
Brent knew he couldn’t stop him, so he didn’t answer. He poured himself a cup of fresh coffee and stared down at the map. He took out the copies of the maps he had found in the vault and spread them on the table. Drinking his coffee, he stared at each map, meticulously going over every step of the plan, minute by minute, from midnight until five the next morning.
As he finished his review, he heard the door swing open. Checking the time again, he saw it was eight o’clock on the nose. Brent turned toward the door and faced his past.
Standing just inside the door was his mirror image, same hair and clothes, same stone-faced expression, just a bit shorter and packing a mouth full of tobacco.
“You know that stuff can kill you,” Brent muttered.
“Screw you, professor. Is that all you have to say to someone you haven’t seen in six years? I don’t care if you are my commanding officer, get your ass over here and give me a hug.”
Brent walked over and grabbed Seven by the shoulders and squeezed him tight. “Thanks for coming.”
As they embraced, Brent heard another familiar voice. “Ahh heck, we didn’t know it was that kind of reunion.”
Brent let go of Seven and saw Jefferson and Fitzpatrick, the rest of the Phantom Squad, standing at the doo
r. The squad had broken up after their last assignment and Brent’s decision to leave the military. Even though they all lived and worked as civilians, they were technically still the property of the U.S. government. The four spent a few minutes catching up on each other’s lives.
Brent led them to the table and they all took a seat. He spent the next hour briefing them on what had taken place in the last five days. It was a story Brent had repeated once too many times and one he was ready to put to bed for good. Seven poured everyone a cup of coffee while each man digested what they had just been told.
“If it didn’t come from your mouth, Captain, I wouldn’t have believed one word of what I just heard,” Jefferson said.
Fitzpatrick just sat, shaking his head from side to side.
“So how do you want to handle this, Captain?”
“Hold that thought, Seven, we’re about to be interrupted.” Brent looked at the wall clock. It was 8:59:55. He pointed to the door just as Benny walked through it carrying a tray of food.
When Benny saw the four of them standing and looking at him, he nearly dropped the tray. “My eyes, they must be playing tricks on me. I see four Brents. All different, yet all the same.”
“Guys, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine, Benito Scarlucci, affectionately known as Benny.”
Benny put the tray down while Brent made introductions. He smiled and shook everyone’s hand. “Anyone who’s a friend of Brent’s is a friend of mine.” After a brief silence, he continued, “I can see that you men are busy, so I go back upstairs… In fact, I have not even come down here. Capisci?”
With a slight laugh, Brent said, “Thanks again, Benny.”
He looked at the men once again then said, “You take good care of my friend, okay?”
“That sure would be a switch, wouldn’t it, Captain?”
“That’s enough, Sergeant,” Brent scolded Jefferson.
“Sorry, Captain.”
“Forgotten. Now, let’s eat.” While the three men dug into the food, Brent stood up to address them. “Listen up, guys. I need to talk to you for a minute as friends, not soldiers.”
The sincerity and softness in Brent’s voice made them all put down their food and give Brent their full attention. “A lot has changed since we last saw each other. I see that two of you are now married. Do you have any kids?”
“Two,” Jefferson said. “A boy, four, and a girl, one-and-a-half.”
“Nah,” Fitzpatrick said.
“Congratulations, both of you.”
“How’d you know I wasn’t married,” Seven asked as he spit tobacco juice into an empty coffee cup.
“Because you don’t fit the criteria, Seven.”
“What criteria is that, professor?”
“Human.”
Seven grinned. “Good point.”
“Okay, here’s the thing. This guy, Ferric, the one we’re up against, is bad news, and we don’t have much reconnaissance on him. All we do have is what I know through Maddie. This is not, I repeat, not an official mission and I’ll understand completely, after all you’ve heard here, if any of you are having second thoughts. I don’t want you to feel pressured. So, I’m going to go upstairs and get a fresh cup of coffee. When I—”
“Shut up.”
They all turned and looked at Fitzpatrick.
“I’ll be, he can string two words together,” Seven said.
“Captain, you’re the only family I’ve ever known,” Fitzpatrick said. “I grew up in the system, you know, a foster care kid, so I didn’t really have a family. I joined the Army as soon as I turned eighteen and somehow, through the grace of God, I was chosen out of two hundred of the best soldiers to have the honor to serve with you. In the time we’ve spent as a squad, you taught me truth, teamwork, honor, sacrifice and love.”
Seven was about to say something flip when Brent grabbed his arm to silence him. Fitzpatrick nodded his thanks and continued. “You showed me what it’s like to be part of a family, and most importantly, you led me to Christ. I would lay down my life for you, for any of you, and I feel blessed that you called on me in your time of need. Just give the order, Captain and let’s bag us a ferret.” Jefferson went to stand next to Fitzpatrick and Seven joined the two.
“I guess it’s unanimous then,” Fitzpatrick said.
“Hell, now we’ll never get him to shut up,” Seven said. They all laughed, and then each man shook Brent’s hand, telling him they were in until the mission was complete.
“Well, if I can’t get rid of you, let’s go look at the maps.”
Brent went over the layout of the city and showed them where Ferric’s compound was situated. “The road into the compound is actually part of the property, but nobody’s supposed to know that. There are security cameras mounted on telephone poles the entire length of the road.” Brent cautioned. “You can’t take out the cameras because I don’t want them to have any clue that we’re coming. You’ll have to maneuver that mile-and-a-half stretch thirty seconds at a time, and you must stay black at all times.” Staying black was their code for staying completely unseen.
“Once you get to the wall around the compound, fan out. Jefferson, you’ve got the north wall. There are two guards posted in the guardhouse that check in every hour on the hour. Take them out right after they check in. That’ll give you the most time. That goes for all of you.”
“How do you want it done?”
Brent looked at Seven, then at the others. “Sniper style, from a minimum of thirty feet with scope, silencer and tranquilizer darts. This is a no-kill mission. We don’t have any authority to be there. If we kill and get caught, it’s murder one. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Once they’re sedated, bind ‘em, gag ‘em and move. Fitz, you’re going to have the same scenario on the south wall. You two will converge at this spot,” Brent pointed to a place on the renderings just to the right of the main doors. “You’re to throw a hook and scale to the second floor balcony. The windows on the upper floors are not armed with security sensors, so gaining access shouldn’t be difficult.
“Your first order of business, once inside, is to make sure no one gets from the first to the third floor. There’s a set of stairs at the front end of the house, here, just outside the door to the room you’ve just entered. There’s another set at the far end of the hall. There’s also an elevator near the back staircase. Jefferson, kill the elevator by cutting the electrical circuit. The breaker for the elevator is located in a panel just to the right of the elevator itself. Then, you two will only have to worry about the stairs.
“Seven, you’re playing decoy. I need you to draw the rest of the guards away from their posts around the perimeter of the house. For the purpose of this mission, Jefferson and Fitzpatrick will be known as thirty-four. Once thirty-four has secured the guardhouses, they’ll signal you. After getting an okay from both, you need to be seen on the security camera, but it has to look like you’re trying to avoid being seen. We need them to think that you’re an amateur and they have the upper hand.
“They’ll be expecting me to try and rescue Chloe. They don’t know I have any military background. As far as they know, I’m just a librarian, so they’ll think you’re me and they’ll expect me to screw up.”
A half smile crossed Seven’s face. He and Brent had been through so much together, it was as if he could read his mind. “As soon as the alarm sounds, cut the main line to the cameras. It’s in a box just inside the main gate. You’ll have twenty seconds between being spotted and being in gunshot range, so move quick.”
“How am I supposed to get the gates to open?” Seven asked.
“I’ll have cut the juice to the gate and electric fence before any of this goes down. I’ll also cut the battery backup. Okay, let’s look at the architectural renderings of the inside of the house,” Brent continued. “I’ve
marked the guards’ positions in red. I expect the guards on the first and second floors to scramble and try to get to the third floor where Ferric and the girls are. The ones on the third floor should hold their positions. Watch yourselves. I don’t know how well trained they are. They may do something totally off the grid.”
Brent took the drawing of the third floor and laid it on top of the others. “Thirty-four, once you’re sure there’s no more traffic from downstairs, you’re to go to the third floor and secure it, room by room: blow, smoke and sedate, just like any other mission.”
Though it had been six years since their last mission, the men remembered that entering any hostile territory meant blowing the door with plastique, tossing in a smoke bomb and then sedating all occupants with sedation darts. Brent looked at each man, making certain they comprehended every phase and asked, “Any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Ditto.”
Brent nodded his acknowledgment and then turned to Seven. “Seven, I need you to lag behind a bit, take out any latecomers on the first and second floors. Once thirty-four makes it to the third floor and all the pests have been extinguished, smoke the third floor hallway and make your way directly to this back room right here.” Brent pointed to the room where Maddie told them they were being kept. “I expect Ferric and his top henchmen, Thomas and James will be in there with the girls. He’ll protect what he thinks is the formula, at all costs. Wait there for me, or for my word, before entering. I don’t care what you hear in there, you’re not to enter until I give the word.”
Seven knew that Brent was referring to the Omega Butcher incident when he himself went in without backup.
“That’s an order! I want a verbal from everyone at every stage. If anyone, I repeat, anyone gets injured going in, abort the entire mission and get out—all of you. Is that understood?”
No one answered.
“Is that understood?” Brent repeated, more authoritatively the second time.
“Yes, sir,” they all said.
