Redemption

by Ever N. Hayes

  Eddie had suspected the Americans had gotten information from Vice President Moore and rescued his daughters. Qi Jia was well aware the VP was supposedly the last living American with access to NORAD, Hawaii, and all the missile codes. The other commanders were certain that with the VP’s suicide all that information was now lost. However, if Eddie was right and the Americans were still alive with that information, capturing them—and collecting the info—would assure both power and prestige to their captor.

  The commander was suddenly quite grateful Lazzo had come to him. He pounded Lazzo on the back and commended his intelligence. But Commander Boli was no fool. He knew Lazzo expected something in return. He figured Lazzo had learned about his family and was here to gain their freedom. Why else would he have brought that info only to him?

  Had he waited for Lazzo to speak, he’d have learned Lazzo had come intent on merely saving his and Eddie’s lives. They only wanted out. Instead, before Lazzo could even request their release from duty, the commander told him he would guarantee the safety of their families in exchange for the information. That was the moment Lazzo found out they’d been lied to. That was the moment he found out his family, and Eddie’s, were both still alive.

  The Libyan commander could tell by Lazzo’s expression he’d been wrong about what Lazzo knew. He also immediately knew he’d essentially provided an alternative mission for Eddie. If Eddie found out about his family being alive, he’d likely try to rescue them. He wouldn’t even care about the VP’s secret information. The commander couldn’t have that. Accordingly, he warned that if Lazzo told Eddie anything about their families still being alive, the commander would have them all killed.

  Lazzo was in a tough spot now. He was outraged he and Eddie had been lied to, and he imagined that was the case with many more of the soldiers here. They’d been tricked into this war and into their vengeful pursuit of the Americans. But he couldn’t dwell on that or let the resulting anger cloud his judgment in front of the commander. He couldn’t give the commander any reason to fear his newly acquired knowledge or to doubt Lazzo was capable of holding up his end of the deal. Yet it also seemed impossible to keep this information from Eddie.

  On the other hand, if he did tell Eddie and his brother decided to go after their families, Lazzo feared that would—this time—guarantee their death. He knew his brother’s tendency to react emotionally in these situations, and he couldn’t afford an angry response. So he agreed to keep the news of his family’s survival from Eddie. The Libyan commander gave Lazzo a radio and a frequency he could be reached on at 1:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. daily. Lazzo would somehow have to hide the radio and sneak out to use it at least once a day. Commander Boli would keep watch for the Americans and update Lazzo on anything he found out. Likewise, Lazzo would keep the commander appraised daily—and keep Eddie in the dark—until the information could be secured from the Americans.

  It wasn’t ever easy. As expected, Eddie got himself into hot water, killing an arrogant sergeant at their new camp and drawing all kinds of unwanted attention. The Libyan commander had tried to send one of his officers down to take over the camp, but the dead sergeant had been a relative of the Mexican commander. Commander Santos sent General Roja down to run the camp, and the racist general made life a living hell for Eddie and Lazzo, even making it impossible for Lazzo to communicate with Commander Boli. It was so bad Commander Boli had to transfer one of his own men, Amadi Ndiaye, down to Buena Vista to help Eddie without even telling Amadi why. Lazzo had to befriend Amadi and get Eddie to trust him. Then he had to get Amadi to buy into their plan without the man realizing he was.

  Amazingly that worked, but then the Americans started to move and Eddie insisted they give chase, the entire time working against the Mexican commander, his general, and all their men. Amadi helped them track everyone’s movements, and Eddie was so focused on his own radio interceptions he never caught on to Lazzo’s secret communications.

  And then it all went south. The stupid Mexican commander and general revealed the truth about the attacks, and Eddie caught on to the deception. Eddie all of a sudden decided to help the Americans escape and blatantly defied General Roja to do so. As much as Lazzo tried to figure out a way to separate Danny from the rest of the Americans, he couldn’t, and then when they saved Danny at the river, he didn’t have the pack on him. It was in one of the boats ahead of them. Amadi was killed there, and Lazzo still had to keep the truth from Eddie, in hopes that by fleeing with the Americans—which would surely be reported back—the Libyan commander wouldn’t immediately kill his family. He had to hope Commander Boli would give him a little time.

  In the boat, Danny admitted to reaching the vice president in the tent and having the vice president’s daughters, confirming all of Eddie’s suspicions. But when pushed to reveal more, Danny didn’t. Instead he guarded his words and his backpack closely, leading Lazzo to believe the secrets were being kept in there. Lazzo needed to communicate what he’d learned to the Libyan commander, but there was no way to do it without being exposed. He had to trust his instincts that Commander Boli wouldn’t reveal their secret to the other commanders, considering what it would mean for him as well—probably his own death.

  Then circumstances got even worse. At Lake Powell Lazzo, Eddie, and the Americans went head to head with General Roja and his men, and Eddie saw his wife … and the whole plan blew up again. Eddie’s emotions took over, and there was no way for Lazzo to maintain control of him. General Roja eventually handed Eddie an envelope the Libyan commander had sent him that day—which Eddie gave to Lazzo without ever reading—and Eddie stayed behind to save his wife. Eddie could very well be dead now. No matter what the Mexican general had promised.

  When Lazzo arrived at Nellis Air Force Base with the Americans, he snuck off to open the envelope and contact Commander Boli. He told the commander he finally knew where the information was, promised he was keeping his word, and insisted he had to stay with the Americans to collect it. The commander did not sound pleased, but Lazzo explained what he needed the commander to do now and Boli assured him he’d follow through. Commander Boli then asked Lazzo one last question: Had Eddie learned the truth? “Yes,” Lazzo had replied. There was a long pause on the other end, and then the commander added one last note.

  “You have until October 12, 2022, to get me what you promised, or everyone dies.”

  It wasn’t until later when Lazzo realized his “yes” answer to the commander’s question could have meant so many different things. Ultimately it could have meant Lazzo had betrayed the Libyan commander. If that was how the commander had taken it, his family could already be dead. Suddenly Lazzo realized that was likely exactly how the commander had taken it—based on Boli’s response on the phone. And then panic set in—internally. Lazzo had to fight to remain calm in front of the Americans.

  That worked until an apparent miscommunication between Denver and San Diego had their plane not only followed but attacked before it reached safety in Hawaii. Lazzo never had the chance to grab Danny’s backpack and jump out. Commander Boli had promised to have him picked up after he jumped—and to otherwise keep the skies clear—but the attacking fighter jets indicated either he hadn’t had time to radio them, or Boli had simply decided to tie up the loose ends.

  When Danny went back to the cargo hold to prepare everyone for the jump, Lazzo switched out his backpack, and when it was time for them to jump, Lazzo tried to stay behind. Lazzo had intended to turn the plane back and try to radio Denver, but Danny had knocked him out and forced him to jump. Danny later thanked him for trying to be the hero, when in fact that hadn’t been Lazzo’s intent at all. Danny had also saved Lazzo’s life—when the Coast Guard had intended to kill him—and taken him to Hawaii, but Danny had gotten his backpack back. Lazzo still had nothing for Commander Boli.

  And then there was talk of the “Elephant Box” Danny had mentioned on the plane, the code words that had essentially granted them access to Hawaii. Danny and Reagan met w
ith the governor and were supposedly given access to the contents of that “box.” One night Lazzo had seen Danny flipping through a large thick book and—through the walls of their room—overheard him telling Kate a little about it. Then Lazzo knew what he needed to do to save his family. He needed that book. And now he knew where Danny kept it. But getting it and getting off the island back to Colorado—or even the mainland—was another issue altogether. The calendar told Lazzo he was running out of time. And he still had no idea how he was going to pull this off.

  He held up the notecard from the envelope Eddie had handed him at Lake Powell and looked at it closely. There was an address in Kauai, six numbers, and “October 12, 2022. Last chance.” If Commander Boli had kept his word, Lazzo’s family was still alive. If he hadn’t, then Lazzo was going to sacrifice his current freedom—and the trust of all these people—for nothing.

  NINE – The Address

  ---------- (Wednesday. July, 20, 2022.) ----------

  Lazzo had already checked out the address on the card. It was hard to get off Redemption without a military escort, but he’d been able to do so a couple times during the Pack’s weekly meetings on Oahu.

  There was a private ranch at Nohili Point on Kauai, with a cast-iron gate blocking a long dirt road. The first time Lazzo saw it he knew what it was—a Libyan safe house. He just couldn’t believe it was still operational. A distinctive insignia was carved into the gate—common in Libyan intelligence—and when Lazzo punched in the six digits from the notecard, the gate unlocked and creaked open.

  Lazzo had hopped back on the bicycle he’d borrowed at the marina and ridden down the road to the house at the end—a pink concrete building with bars on all the windows and another keypad at the door. But the six-digit code didn’t work on this one. Lazzo walked around the house, looking for another way in, but he couldn’t find any. An old garage stood south of the house, but there were no signs of life there either. He didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe this wasn’t the right place, or maybe he was too late. Or too early.

  The second time Lazzo visited the pink house it had recently rained. Fresh tire tracks were visible on the dirt road, and a light shone in the window of the house—but again no one answered his knocks. There was still no way inside. But someone either was—or had recently been—here.

  This time, however, as he rode the bike back to the marina, he was keenly aware he was being followed. A few furtive glances in the bike’s small mirrors showed a brown van about a half mile behind him. It never got closer, even when he slowed and stopped. Lazzo was certain it was someone from the house. As he hopped in the boat and headed back toward Redemption, he saw the van parked on a hill overlooking Kauai’s Waimea Bay. Given his small boat and the direction he was heading, he knew they’d figure out where he was going. Even if they didn’t know about Redemption, there was only one other island in that direction—Niihau. Maybe they’d come out there for him?

  Lazzo had visited the house one last time a month ago, and this time the door had been left wide open. He couldn’t help feeling like someone was in the house with him as he explored it, but he saw no one. There was a single bedroom with a bed but no pillows or blankets, a kitchen with a table, two chairs, and crates of bottled water—but no appliances or food—and a living room with another table, two more chairs, and an old couch. On the table in the living room sat a car key and a pink piece of paper held down by an L-shaped piece of metal. The writing on the paper was in Arabic, and Lazzo could still see the words clearly in his mind: “We are here to help. But the next time you come here must be the last time.” And then there was a pin number for the front-door keypad.

  When Lazzo turned from the table to leave, he found the front door had been closed and he couldn’t open it from the inside. He went to the other door in the kitchen and found the same to be the case there. Additionally, the windows were not only all barred but immovable—with thick-paned, perhaps even bulletproof, glass. Fearing he’d walked into a trap, he began to panic, until he remembered the L-shaped piece of metal on the table. He found a small slot in the front door it fit into perfectly, and the door clicked open when he inserted it. This pink house wasn’t merely a safe house—it could be a prison. Someone had been sending him a message. Or a threat.

  Lazzo had searched the property for the vehicle belonging to the key but found nothing. He knew it was more than luck, however, that he happened upon it back at the marina—the brown van that had followed him before. The van contained a backpack that held handcuffs, duct tape, chloroform, an IED, and a remote detonator. On the boat ride back to the island—with the backpack—Lazzo couldn’t help but feel like he’d been given the answers to his problem…and he should know exactly what he was supposed to do now. So why didn’t he?

  TEN– Hot and Bothered (Ryan)

  One Week Later.

  ---------- (Wednesday. July 27, 2022.) ----------

  Danny and the Pack took the plane to Oahu for another meeting five days before the USS George Washington was scheduled to leave Pearl Harbor to launch the rescue planes. Governor Barnes had elected to keep the newer carrier, the USS JFK, in port, given that the shortage of personnel meant we couldn’t send accompanying ships—a carrier strike group—along for protection. The JFK was the most technologically advanced—most modern—ship in the world. If we were going to risk losing one, it couldn’t be the JFK.

  Before Baker and his team took the carrier out into the open ocean, they’d be making a test run with it on July 31. They’d head out fifty miles south then loop north into the deep Kauai Channel—parking about a half-mile south of Redemption Island for the night. They’d run some last-minute drills and checks, then move out the next morning. It would be strange seeing that giant ship a few hundred yards off our coastline, knowing the 348 people on board—one eighth of our remaining population—might never be coming back. In my mind it was like going back 110 years and waving at the Titanic as it left port—knowing they would hit the iceberg and still letting them go anyway.

  We didn’t know what kind of naval opposition the enemy might provide. It had been months since our radar had detected any vessel approaching Hawaii from the mainland, and even that boat had never come within our long-distance firing range. Did Qi Jia have control of any subs? Destroyers? A carrier of their own they also could sufficiently staff and operate—considering the USS Reagan had been in port in San Diego during the attacks? We knew we could send our carrier out 1,500 miles or so and still be beyond their land-based radar—assuming their range had the same thousand-mile max as ours. But if Qi Jia did have a carrier, submarine, or some other ship parked off the coast, the carrier wouldn’t even be able to go that far—and the rescue group needed every inch of that 1,500 miles to safely get an airplane to Colorado and back.

  Danny told me this meeting was as intense as every other. Captain Baker and his sidekick Brock were their usual condescending selves—pissed off about anything and everything having to do with their makeshift crew. Baker wanted fighter jets to accompany the rescue planes to land, somehow not grasping—or caring—that more firepower would mean more visibility—and getting noticed would nullify the additional weaponry. It took all of the governor’s patience and reasoning ability to convince them of that fact.

  Danny feared that eventually Baker would do what he wanted anyway. While the USS George Washington had been made as light as possible, it still contained four transport planes, two Apache helicopters, one Blackhawk, and six fighter jets—two F-111s, an A-10, two F-15s and a Nighthawk. There would be no one to stop Baker from using any or all of the planes however he wished. His problem would be pilots. He only had seven Air Force pilots with him. Seven more were staying in Hawaii—including Axel.

  --------------------

  Meeting days for the Pack were beach days for the rest of us. Everyone but Lazzo, Kate, and Ollie went down to the cove this time. Kate volunteered to watch Ollie so Tara and I could get away and relax a little together. The decision was a no
-brainer for us. Kate was going to be an incredible mother, whenever she and Danny reached that point. She’d always been so gentle, patient, and compassionate. Truthfully, if you were to describe the perfect mother, almost every adjective you’d come up with would be part of who Kate already was.

  As for getting away for a bit with Tara—even if everyone else was around—well, let’s say that as much as I enjoyed seeing her naked and frolicking around the cabin, there was something uniquely arousing about splashing through the ocean with her. So many little things got to me…the water droplets glistening on her tanned skin…the goose bumps I regularly found on her thighs. I loved pulling her in—her perky breasts smashed against my chest, her heartbeat combating my own. Man, the sensations that swarmed me as she wrapped her strong legs around my waist and laughed that beautiful laugh—she made me feel like a teenager all over again. But this time there was more than just a chance I’d get lucky. In fact, I knew for certain I got lucky every day I woke up next to her. She was amazing.

  We had settled onto a sandbar out in the cove—just the two of us—mostly watching Emily and Abbey build some sort of sandcastle on the shore. Tara was leaning back against my chest and I was using the nearly neck-high water to conceal my active hands—my fingers inching downward as my pulse raced upward. Tara was tolerating it—adjusting her suit and legs to give me better access—but I could tell there was something else on her mind. She wasn’t nearly as frisky as usual—barely participating at all. “What’s going on?” I cupped my hands around her breasts and squeezed them firmly.