Jericho

by T K Eldridge

  A soft gasp from the interviewer and she gave him a wide-eyed look of horror. “Are you saying that there have been genetic experiments that have created human/animal mutations?” One perfectly manicured hand lifted to rest against her collarbone in further expression of her shock, as if she had had no idea of what he was going to discuss in the interview. Stereotypical pearl-clutching at its finest.

  Cutter growled softly, curled one fist tight and pointed it at the screen. “C’mere little man, I’ll show you what weak feels like.”

  I reached out and rested my hand on top of his fist and eased it back down. “Later,” I said.

  Wilson continued his interview. “A geneticist, Dr. Alden Thorpe, started experimenting with stem cells and DNA, mixing human and various animal strains. Then he got the government to help fund his pet project. Pet being the operative word here. Men and women who were once human are now mutant creatures that should be put down like stray dogs before they can procreate and contaminate the human race even more.”

  The faint shudder that ran through the woman across from Wilson was artfully picked up by the cameras. “How disgusting,” she said.

  “I agree, it is disgusting. When I am elected President of this great country, I will end this program, destroy the experiments, and make sure laws are passed that do not allow further contamination and risk to the purity of the human species.”

  “Even more reason to support your run for office, Vice President Wilson. With election day fast approaching, it is up to Americans to secure their own future safety and security by voting for you.”

  I picked up the remote and shut off the television, then tossed it back onto the table. My gaze traveled from face to face as I read the various levels of anger and frustration on each one. “Well, if we were still able to vote, I know who would not be getting my vote,” I said, a wry tone of humor in my words.

  “So, he plans on just euthanizing us as if we were stray dogs?” Kit said. “What a fucking idiot.”

  “It’s these purist God-types that misquote the Bible, twisting it to support their insanity, that make me wish there was another term for them other than Christian. They’re not the kind of Christian I was raised to be, or try to live my life as,” Gideon offered, voice quiet.

  “Same thing they did a few years back with the LGBTQ community,” Kane said with a nod to Gideon. “Let’s face it. Most people are sheep. They just want to follow the flock or herd or whatever, and be just like everyone else when it comes to big issues.”

  Gideon lifted a finger with each example, “And what they did with the racial divide in the sixties and seventies here in the US, and what the Nazi regime did with the Jews, gypsies, and those they determined not Aryan enough.”

  “People need someone to hate. Someone to point at as ‘not as good’ as themselves, to make them feel better about their lot in life. If there isn’t something readily available, they’ll create an enemy, like the Nazis did. Dr. Thorpe created their new target, is all,” I said and rolled my shoulders. “Wilson is afraid of us because we don’t play his little games. We make a good target.”

  Kane got up and fixed two cups of coffee, then offered one to me before he sat back down. “We get the info we need for the next op? I’ll help you work out the plan and get the equipment requisitions done.”

  “Thanks, I could use the help,” I said and waved a hand to the room. “Dismissed, everyone. Keep your head on a swivel and your ears open.”

  The team got to their feet and headed off while Kane and I sipped coffee and had a more private conversation.

  ~Jericho, I heard that Paulo needed a sedative the other day. What’s going on?~

  ~Locke split up the triad. Put them all in separate rooms. You know Paulo isn’t good alone, so it’s been rough. I spoke to Z the day it happened and he, Affie, and Paulo are coming on this mission.~

  ~Good. If anyone deserves a chance to get out, it’s them. I’ve got ears all over, and the minute I hear that trackers are being swapped, we’ll make our move.~

  ~I’m supposed to go out with Gideon today and buy some supplies for the mission. I’ll drop a letter for you if you want?~

  I reached into the pile of papers and pulled out a sheet folded in half around an envelope with an address and no name, and handed it to Kane. “The supplies list is right here,” I said.

  Kane took it, folded it again, and tucked it into an inside pocket of his jumpsuit. “Not a problem.”

  ~I didn’t put a name on the envelope in case someone found it. Appreciate you taking care of this for me.~

  ~Not a problem, brother.~

  Kane got to his feet and tossed his empty cup as I went back to the paperwork. Best the Watchers didn’t get suspicious of how quiet we were.

  * * *

  “At least it’s on this side of the ocean this time,” Rico muttered as he cradled his rifle in his arm and watched Gideon and Cutter move through the drill course.

  “What’s the matter, Ricky? Don’t like trans-Atlantic bed-head?” Kane taunted as he also watched the two. Behind them, Kit and I talked quietly while we waited our turn.

  “I’m kind of glad too, honestly,” Kit added, voice low. “Tired of the sand, although this mission seems a little hinky to me.”

  “Save the chatter for the trail,” I breathed, barely audible. They both gave a faint nod. Rico shifted his stance, ready to take on the course as soon as the first two came back and stepped between the timing poles. We’d done this course so many times, it was easy to do, but took some focus to be precise. Once we’d all finished it, we slung our weapons, adjusted packs and took on the trail – a twenty-five mile course that gave us the best chance of not being overheard at all. They tracked us with GPS on the long run, not mics and cameras like they did on the course. We enjoyed the little freedom and took full advantage of it.

  I got myself into the center of the pack and started to talk. “To start, there are concerns about this new mission. This is the first one since the Boston assault that has been stateside. I’m not real comfortable with the sheer lack of information we’ve been working with so far.”

  “Yeah, like no name for the target, not even a location, just a comment to be ready,” Kane said. “Sounds like a job that no one wants anyone else to know about.”

  “How many times have we been told that what we do is for the good of our country?” Cutter asked. “Every single time – except this time.”

  I nodded as we rounded a curve, the downward slope of the first hill in front of us. “This time, they’re keeping it all very close to the vest. A floor plan and a timetable, not even a face. And that floor plan is of a big house – the kind of house a rich person lives in.”

  “Or someone important to a rich person,” Kit added. “The timetable also sounds like a schedule for a young person who is in school and does sports or something afterwards.”

  “I ain’t killin’ no kids,” Cutter growled. “Don’t care whose side they’re on.”

  “Didn’t matter much to those rugrats you smoked in Afghanistan,” Rico said as his gaze darted sideways to watch Cutter’s face turn to stone.

  “You know damned well that was an accident,” Cutter snapped and started for Rico. “They said the place was cleared.”

  “Enough.” I said, my voice sharp. “Rico, I don’t know what your issue is lately, but you can carry my pack the rest of the run and keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you.”

  My pack ended up in Rico’s hands and he started to drop back with the extra weight, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. He was pissed, and I didn’t care.

  “Whatever the new job is, Cutter and I will find out more tomorrow. We’re supposed to be scouting the area and making an attack plan then.”

  The rest of the run was made in silence and Rico came in a good five minutes after the rest of us. He didn’t say a word, but he gave me a clear look of disgust as he dropped both packs in the shed.

  “Rico,” I said and he stopped. “I don’t know what
they offered you, or what you’re getting from them, but I will not tolerate a traitor. I’ve submitted a request for you to be transferred off my team.”

  Rico turned and looked at me, then his gaze dropped. “My mom died two weeks ago. They said they’d let me go to the cemetery if I spied for them.”

  “Man, I’m sorry about your mom, but we’re your family now. You can’t fuck your family over and expect to survive in here,” I said.

  “I need to pay my respects,” Rico said, voice breaking.

  “Where is she buried?” I asked.

  “Holy Cross in Lorton, Virginia,” he said.

  “I promise that the next time we’re out and have the leeway, I will get you to that cemetery so you can pay your respects. Just, Rico, stop doing what they want. It can get you killed.”

  “I know,” Rico said, then looked up at me. I realized how damned young the guy was. Barely twenty-one. “You promise?”

  “I promise on our bond as brothers,” I said and he let out a sigh as his shoulders sagged. I stepped close and gave him a quick hug, then whispered in his ear. “Come see me later. I’ll give you some shit to tell them so they think you’re still playing, but it’ll help us, not them.”

  I felt him nod against my shoulder and he muttered back to me. “That’s kind of what I’ve been doing all along. Stupid shit or mixed up stuff. Nothing that would really hurt us.”

  I patted his back and nudged him to the door. “Get to the showers. We stink.”

  He laughed and flipped me off as we left the shed. I still had my questions, but at least I understood what had been going on with him better now.

  Chapter Seven

  Cutter and I had two days to scout the area and come up with our plan. We didn’t really need two days, but any time out of the Facility was good, so we told them every time it needed at least two days. Now we were in a vacation rental on the Maryland coast about five minutes from the bridge that went to Wilson Island. The two bedroom cottage we were in had a deck that overlooked the water and with it being autumn, there were few warm days left. I scored a burner phone and called Peyton to tell her where I was and see if she’d got my letter. It went to voicemail, so I left a message - “It’s me, call me back,” and hung up.

  Cutter came out onto the porch and handed me a beer. We sat and watched the waves for a bit before he finally spoke.

  “You know this mission has something to do with Wilson, don’t you?” Cutter said.

  “Yeah, but I’m trying to not think about it too much.”

  “Well, you have to. It’s pretty clear that we’re supposed to take out Sassy and Peyton. This will destabilize Wilson, or so the Powers That Be think, and will cause him to crash and burn. Me? I think it will propel him into the winning seat because of the sympathy vote and his raging fury. Kill his daughter and he’ll burn it all down.”

  “We’re not killing Sarah or Peyton,” I said. “I have a call in to Thorpe. He gave me some coordinates in the letter he left for me and I think they are for a place to hide out.”

  Cutter pulled out his burner and tapped the map icon. “What are the coordinates?”

  I told him the memorized numbers and he pulled them up on a global satellite program, then zoomed in. He turned the phone towards me and I stared at the image of a very large cabin in the middle of trees.

  “Back it out some,” I said.

  He did and smiled at me. “There’s nothing within miles of this place. We could be really safe there.”

  “I’ll ask Thorpe about it when he calls me back. Maybe we can hide Peyton and Sarah there.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Cutter said. “Have Peyton pack up clothes, photos, stuff like that and put it in totes in a storage locker. I’ll go get one somewhere between here and the cabin.” He got to his feet, finished his beer, and went inside to get the keys.

  “Thanks, Cutter,” I said as he headed to the car.

  “They’re family,” Cutter replied as if that answered everything. It did.

  I sipped my beer and waited for the phone to ring. It was almost a half hour later when she finally called. “Is it you?” she asked.

  “Yes, babe. It’s me. J.D. You safe to talk?”

  “Not yet. I’m in the car. Sarah’s at a friend’s for the night. I’m headed to the gas station near you. Come get me?”

  “C’s got the car. I’ll come meet you and take care of things.”

  “Um, okay. Just be careful. I know I’m being watched and followed.”

  “Got it. Then pull the car around to the back of the station and I’ll be there before you are.”

  “See you soon,” Peyton said and disconnected the call.

  I found my tool kit and pulled out a few pieces to tuck into a small bag in my pocket, then locked up the house, pulled my jacket hood over my head, and started running. The station she had talked about was about three miles away, and I was there in less than five minutes. Hey, it takes stealth to not be seen as a blur in someone’s side mirror with the kind of speed I had when I wanted to get somewhere fast.

  I went into the store, picked out a candy bar and a drink, and got up to the register. My hand was in my pocket and I hit the EMP device before the cameras could get a good look at my face. Everything electronic in the store shut down. Cash register, lights, cameras, coolers, everything. The guy behind the counter started to freak out, so I set my items on the counter and backed away. “Never mind. I shouldn’t eat that much sugar anyway,” I said as I left. Other customers stayed to argue while I went around back to wait for Peyton.

  A few minutes later, she pulled around the building and I gestured to a spot to park, then went over to her. “Release the hood,” I said and she did. I leaned in and disconnected the GPS for the car, then slid underneath to see if there were any other trackers on it. I found one, stuck with a magnet to the undercarriage and pulled it off. I walked around the side of the building and hit the EMP again to fry the little device in my hand, then went back to the car and slid under it to put the now-defunct tracker back on the car. I got in on the passenger’s side, then leaned over to give Peyton a kiss on the cheek. “All deactivated. Pull out, take a left at the light and go down to the stop sign, then take a right and it’s the last house on the left. You can park in the garage.”

  “You’re sure?” Peyton asked, voice shaky.

  “Positive. The station is having a bad day. Seems something fried all of their electronics and cameras. Guess you should’ve stopped for gas somewhere else. Luckily, you were far enough away it only messed up the GPS on your car and not the rest of the electronics. The GPS is the most sensitive anyway…” I let my voice trail off and grinned at her.

  Peyton gave me a smile in return and pulled out. She followed the directions and I got out to open the garage so she could pull in. Once inside, she shut everything down, got out of the car, and threw herself into my arms. “I’m so beyond glad to see you, Jericho. It’s been a nightmare lately. Something big is going on and I don’t have enough information to figure it all out.”

  The garage door was down and locked, and I turned as she wrapped herself around me. I pulled her close, wrapped my arms around her, and breathed in her scent. “Yeah, something is going on and I think I have some of the information. Maybe between the three of us, we can figure this all out.” I led Peyton into the house, then hung up our coats. “You want something to drink? Tea, coffee, beer?”

  “You have beer? I’ll have that. I think I need it to help me relax.”

  I could think of a few other ways to relax her, but beer was good for now. I opened two bottles and handed her one before I turned on the gas fireplace and patted the sofa beside me. “Come sit and just unwind a bit. You’re safe here.”

  “Wait, you said three of us. Who’s with you?”

  “Cutter. He went out to take care of a couple of errands. In fact, what would you like for food? He usually picks up something on the way back.”

  “I don’t care. I’m good with whatever.
Just not too spicy.”

  I texted Cutter to bring back enough for three and not spicy. I got a thumbs up in reply and set the phone aside to focus on the beauty next to me.

  “I won’t lie, Peyton. I’ve thought about having you tucked against me a lot the past few weeks.”

  “I’ve thought about this a bit myself,” she said and curled in closer, her head on my shoulder.

  I let my arm wrap around her and kissed her temple. “Can you stay tonight or do you have to get back?”

  “I can stay. I brought a bag in case it was okay to do so. I need a break from that house, from Wilson and his perv squad.”

  “And Sarah’s safe at her friend’s place?”

  “Yeah, Katya is an ambassador’s daughter. She’s got her own protection detail, so I know Sarah’s fine there.”

  “Good. Want me to put some music on?”

  “No, I like the sounds of the waves. It’s calming. Your heartbeat is also soothing.”

  Peyton’s beer started to tip and I set mine down before I took hers and set it on the table too. “Just rest, love. I’ll keep watch.”

  I heard a soft sigh and then the steady breathing as she slid into sleep. I looked down at her face and saw the shadows like bruises under her eyes, the pallor of her cheeks and lips. She was exhausted and it showed. I grabbed a soft pillow and put it on my lap, then eased her down so she’d be more comfortable. I reached for my beer and for the next hour or more, I sat there, thought about a lot of different things, and enjoyed the hell out of having this woman sleeping on me.

  Cutter came in and I gestured for him to be quiet. He smiled as he headed into the kitchen with the food.