Danger Close

by James P. Sumner

  “Track it,” said Jericho, unable to keep the adrenaline and urgency from his voice. “Find out where that boat went. That’s the priority now. We find that boat, we find the shooter.” He turned to Ramirez. “Told you we’d find him.”

  “I will tell my men to stand ready,” said Ramirez. “As soon as we ID this shooter, I will send word to General Guerrero. If he knows we’re tracking the shooter, maybe it will de-escalate things on the streets and put an end to this before it has a chance to begin.”

  Jericho’s expression hardened. “That’s assuming the general isn’t behind it.”

  Ramirez appeared shocked. “You think he would do that? I don’t think even he would—”

  Jericho held up his hand. “I just think we should hold off on any peace treaties until we confirm the shooter isn’t one of your own people.”

  “Perhaps you are right,” said Ramirez hesitantly.

  Jericho reached for his phone. “Let me check in with my team and let them know we’re making progress. They might be able to help.”

  As he approached the door, it burst open. A Palugan soldier stood there, red-faced and out of breath, a look of concern in his eyes.

  Ramirez stepped forward. “What is it, soldier?”

  “Sir. We have men at the gate.”

  “Civilians?”

  The soldier shook his head. “Our men, sir. They’re demanding we open the palace gates and let them in, on orders from General Guerrero himself.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t…” said Jericho.

  The soldier looked at him. “No, sir. We’re holding our ground. I came straight here.”

  “How many men?” asked Ramirez.

  “Maybe twenty, sir. Just one unit.”

  Jericho looked at the colonel. “How many men do you have in the palace?”

  “Sixty. You?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  The soldier shifted his weight back and forth anxiously. “Sir, what should we do?”

  “I’m on my way,” said Ramirez. “Go on ahead. Tell our men that under no circumstances is that gate to be opened.”

  The soldier nodded and disappeared.

  Ramirez looked at Jericho. “What do you think?”

  Jericho shrugged. “Strange timing for a show of strength. Perhaps I should come along and introduce myself. Might be useful to remind your general that he’s not the only game in town.”

  Ramirez smiled. “I thought you might say that, soldier.”

  14

  Jericho and Ramirez stepped out into the palace courtyard. They were flanked by a mix of Palugan soldiers and GlobaTech operatives they gathered along the way. There was no shade once they emerged from the warm shadows provided by the balcony above. The sun was directly overhead, assaulting the ground with its afternoon heat.

  Jericho squinted against the influx of light. He retrieved a pair of mirrored sunglasses from his pocket and put them on.

  Beside him, Ramirez marched with the confidence his rank demanded. His eyes were fixed on the gates and the soldiers who stood outside it.

  Around the courtyard, thirty loyal soldiers stood looking on, gripping their weapons tightly. A gentle wind kicked up dust around their boots. Another fifteen soldiers patrolled the balconies above.

  The tension was palpable.

  Jericho stopped short of the gate, allowing Ramirez to take the lead and address the men on the other side. He had five GlobaTech operatives standing around him, all armed with the latest weaponry. Their fingers rested outside the trigger guards.

  Ramirez approached the gate and looked at the man standing nearest to him. “Name and rank, soldier.”

  The soldier didn’t salute or stand to attention. “First Lieutenant Gomez, sir. I’m here with orders from General Guerrero to relieve you and your men of your post. My unit will take things from here. Sir.”

  Ramirez said nothing. He just held out his hand, an unspoken request for the orders Gomez was carrying. A letter was handed to him. Ramirez quickly scanned through it, then handed it back.

  “There are sixty troops here, First Lieutenant,” said Ramirez. “Are you saying you’re going to take over with… what? Twenty?”

  Gomez nodded. “Twenty-two, sir. And yes. You and your men have been reassigned, as per the general’s orders. He doesn’t believe protecting the palace requires this many men, especially when the country’s leader isn’t in it.”

  “I can only assume that, in all the chaos and confusion, General Guerrero has forgotten himself. This country doesn’t technically have a leader right now, and until someone else is officially sworn in, I shall continue to follow the orders I was given by the man who previously held that position. Last I checked, a president outranks a general. You and your men aren’t needed here, First Lieutenant. You are to return to your base immediately. That’s an order. If the general takes issue with me following the rules, he’s welcome to come down here and tell me himself.”

  Gomez remained unfazed. His expression was deadpan on his tanned, leathery face. “Due respect, Colonel, but the general outranks you. His orders are the only ones you should be following. Any issue with presidential protocols is his problem to deal with, not yours. Your orders are to step aside and allow my unit and I inside the palace grounds. We will use force if necessary.”

  Ramirez held his ground but said nothing.

  Jericho watched the situation unfold quietly. He felt reluctant to involve himself. He didn’t want to undermine Ramirez in front of anyone. But he also had his own men to consider—the team with him and the rest dotted throughout the palace. If this situation escalated, GlobaTech would be put in an impossible position. They would have to defend themselves, but without the protection of the U.N., they were just private U.S. citizens in a gunfight on foreign soil. Buchanan had enough on his plate without having to deal with the fallout from that too.

  He cracked his knuckles and flexed his hand, loosening the muscles and joints. Then he took a giant step forward, stopping beside the colonel. He didn’t remove his sunglasses. He just smiled at the first lieutenant through the iron railings of the palace gates.

  Gomez turned to him. “This doesn’t concern you. Step back, or you will be arrested.”

  Jericho raised an eyebrow from behind the glasses. “Really? On what charges?”

  “Interfering in the affairs of another country’s military.”

  “Huh. Funny… sounds a lot like what you’re doing. Does that mean I can arrest you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, you know who I am, right?”

  Gomez looked him up and down. “You work for GlobaTech Industries. Probably an accountant. This is a military matter and doesn’t concern some U.S. shareholders. I suggest you go back to your boss and clarify what you can and can’t do out here.”

  Jericho removed the sunglasses and fixed the first lieutenant with a stare so cold, even the South American heat couldn’t help.

  He took a shallow breath, steeling himself. He had to gamble that news of the U.N.’s decision hadn’t yet been released to the global media.

  “Out here, I don’t have a boss,” he said firmly. “The two thousand highly trained and well-equipped GlobaTech operatives currently stationed in your country answer to me. And we’re all here on behalf of the United Nations, so if you try and arrest me, you’d better have a watertight case. Otherwise, you risk bringing charges of war crimes down on your beloved general.”

  Gomez glanced at the colonel before responding, as if seeking support. “It’s my understanding you were hired by the president to provide additional security for him. You have no jurisdiction here. As soon as we can ensure the security of our people, your men will be allowed to leave the country. Until then, you will stay inside your allocated zones, and you will not interfere in matters that don’t concern you.” He turned to Ramirez. “Colonel, you have your orders. The general has authorized the use of force should we meet any resistance. Tell your men to stand down and open these gates,
sir.”

  Jericho took a deep breath, standing to his full height and width. He was an intimidating presence by anyone’s standards, and he knew it.

  “Actually, Gomer…”

  “It’s Gomez.”

  “Whatever. As U.N. Peacekeepers, we are well within our rights to intervene if we believe there is a threat to human life. Now I’m certainly not suggesting the colonel and his men can’t handle themselves. But what I’m saying is this: you want through these gates and through these men… you go through me first.”

  “I’m ordering you to stand down right now,” Gomez asserted, pointing his finger.

  Jericho shook his head. “You seem to think your rank counts for anything outside of your military, son. You don’t have the authority to order me a sandwich.”

  Gomez held his ground, but his body language betrayed him. He shifted his weight and swallowed hard, his confidence wavering slightly. It took him a moment to recover.

  “This has nothing to do with you,” he said eventually. “Your big talk doesn’t impress me. It’s easy to threaten people from the other side of a locked gate. I have a squad of men with me, and we will take the palace by force if we have to. I don’t care if GlobaTech are here or not.”

  “You’re right,” said Jericho, smiling. “It is easy behind a locked gate.”

  He looked to his right, into the small gatehouse built into the corner formed by tall hedges and walls, into the eyes of the man standing beside the gate controls. He pointed a finger to the sky and circled with it, signaling for him to open the gate. When met with a confused look, he simply nodded his reassurance.

  There was a loud, metallic clank as locks were released and gears were set in motion. The gates swung open toward Jericho, just enough for one person to walk through.

  Jericho stepped into the gap, filling it with his almost inhuman frame. He was mere inches from Gomez, with nothing between them but air.

  “However, it’s just as easy without the gate.” He crossed his arms and glared at the first lieutenant, who gave up a good seven inches in height. “Now, like I said… You want in this palace, you go through me. And you have… what? Twenty-two men out here, including you? I can promise you less than half of these guys would make it past me if you tried. And then what? There are almost ninety men behind me. Pick your battles, son. Turn your ass around, crawl back to your general, and you tell him Jericho Stone and GlobaTech said he can turn his orders sideways and shove them straight up his ass. I’ll even help if he struggles.”

  Gomez didn’t move. His hand hovered over the handgun he had holstered to his thigh. His eyes locked on Jericho’s.

  Jericho held his gaze. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move an inch. He was rooted to the spot like a mountain protecting a valley from a storm.

  The unit deployed by General Guerrero shifted anxiously. Their collective tension was visible. Fingers moved inside trigger guards. Uncertain glances were exchanged.

  Behind him, Jericho heard Ramirez take a breath and hold it.

  The world seemed to fall silent. The wind dropped. The dust settled on the ground. Only the faint crackle of the heat in the air remained.

  Seconds ticked by like decades.

  Gomez blinked first. He stepped back, away from the gate.

  “The general will hear of this,” he said. “The colonel and his men will be arrested. GlobaTech forces will be treated as hostile.”

  Jericho huffed. “Your army isn’t big enough to treat my guys as hostile.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, for a start, almost a third of your army is on my side. And let’s be honest here—one of my men is worth ten of yours. We’re here to help find President Herrera’s killer. If your general wants to help us out, great. But don’t for one second think that, if I gave the order, your men would stand a chance.”

  Gomez’s face twisted with anger. His fist clenched, continuing to linger around his thigh holster. But he said nothing.

  Jericho took one step forward, moving outside the gates for the first time. “Go back to your base. Stay there. Your colonel will tell you if he needs you. If the general doesn’t like it, tell him he can run for office and see if the people of Paluga vote for him.”

  Gomez turned on his heels and walked away through the huddle of his men, who quickly followed him. They climbed back into their vehicles and drove away. Jericho watched until the last one turned out of sight at the bottom of the hill. Only then did he step back into the courtyard and signal for the gates to close behind him.

  Ramirez walked toward him, shaking his head. His eyes were wide. A bewildered grin spread across his face. “You are one crazy sonofabitch, Mr. Stone.”

  Jericho simply shrugged and walked away, reaching for his cell phone.

  15

  Julie nestled into the reclining leather seat of the jet and let her head fall to the side. She stared out of the window, absently looking at the sea of seemingly motionless clouds beyond as they zoomed through the sky toward New York.

  Opposite her, Collins lounged with one leg draped over the arm of his chair. He held a folded newspaper up to his face and a pen in his hand. A quiet grunt of frustration made Julie look over.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He peered over the newspaper at her. “A crossword. Helps keep the mind sharp, ya know. One of those big general knowledge ones.”

  “You stuck on something?”

  “Aye. Donkey… three letters. A, something, something.”

  “Ass,” she said, her face and tone deadpan.

  “Yes! Thanks, Jules!”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean the crossword…”

  They fell silent again for a few minutes. It was comfortable, relaxed. Only the muted noise of the engines broke the peace. Julie returned to admiring the world outside, relishing the break.

  A sole stewardess was on board. She was primarily part of GlobaTech’s catering department, but on a GlobaTech jet, her job wasn’t just to bring refreshments. She fielded calls and liaised with the pilot and ground control during the flight. And in the unlikely event the plane was ever hijacked, she was trained to disable the enemy and protect all passengers.

  GlobaTech never did things by half-measure.

  The stewardess walked into the cabin from behind the curtain at the rear of the plane, teetering slightly against the natural sway of flight. She wore a black pant suit with a red trim.

  “Can I get you folks anything?” she asked, stopping beside their seats.

  Julie smiled politely. “I’m good. Thank you.”

  Collins peered over his newspaper at her.

  “Yeah, I’m—well, hello there!” He tossed the paper and pen onto the seat next him, sat up straight, and held out his hand to her. “Ray Collins. It’s a pleasure to meet ya…”

  The stewardess rolled her eyes and shook his hand, playing along. “Louise.”

  “Louise, eh? Tell me, Louise, what’s a knockout like you doing waitressing on a private jet? Ya should be on the catwalk.”

  Julie closed her eyes and muttered, “I think I’m gonna be sick…”

  Collins ignored her. “How’s about ya let me fix you a drink, and ya come and join us for the rest of the flight? Ya can help me with my crossword.”

  Louise smiled politely. Her teeth were perfect and white, accentuated further by her olive skin. She squatted beside Julie’s chair, using the arm for balance. Her thighs strained against her pants, showing the muscle and definition that was previously obscured. She rested her elbow on her knee, then her chin on her fist, and looked at Collins.

  His smile faltered a fraction as he noticed further muscle on her arms, straining against the suit jacket.

  “Ray, this is easily the ninth time you’ve hit on me in the last twelve months. The fact you never remember would be insulting if your attempts at charm weren’t so laughable.”

  Julie clamped a hand to her mouth a split-second after a loud laugh escaped.r />
  Collins shifted in his seat, his confidence fading.

  “Now please understand,” continued Louise, “I could bench three of you. So, I suggest you grab your pen and make a note of this so that it doesn’t happen a tenth time: if you try to hit on me again, or act unprofessional in any way toward me, I will break you in half and mail the pieces back home to your mommy, ’kay?”

  She stood, still smiling.

  Collins swallowed hard, struggling to keep the color from his cheeks. His shame vanished a second later, and he looked up at her, smiling. “Heh, take it easy, She-Hulk. I meant no offence. Just… admiring a strong woman is all.”

  Julie watched him fight to keep face. He managed it, just about.

  She looked up at Louise. “Actually, can I grab a beer? And… can I please keep you?”

  The two women laughed together, then Louise walked away to fetch the drink.

  Collins looked at Julie. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand. “Not… a bloody word. And nothing to Jerry, either.”

  Julie threw her head back and howled with laughter. “Oh, Ray, if you think this isn’t being mentioned at every possible opportunity for at least the next year, you are sadly mistaken!”

  Collins sank into his chair with a heavy sigh. “Bollocks.”

  Louise returned a moment later with Julie’s beer. As she handed it to her, she said, “Just to let you know, we’re about ninety minutes away. We’ve secured a private landing strip at JFK, and a local two-man unit will meet you on the runway.”

  “Thank you,” said Julie, “for all of your exceptional work.”

  They shared a smile. As Louise turned to walk away, she placed a hand on Collins’s shoulder. “Chin up, Skippy. Bigger and better men than you have tried and failed.”

  Julie laughed so hard that no sound came out, just a low wheeze.

  Collins looked over. “Aye… laugh it up, missy. I hope ya choke on ya damn beer.”