by H. L. Wegley
She still held his hand when he slipped from the crack in the rock. He took her other hand and pulled her out, setting her down a few feet back from the precipice.
“Over here.” He continued holding one of her hands and led her between two boulders. They circled a big rock on their right and stopped behind it well-hidden from sight.
“See the old logging road? Look a little to our left and down about two hundred yards.”
“I see it. After the big turn it runs almost straight down the side of the mountain.”
“That’s the idea. Actually, the same road passes near where we’re standing. If you go about thirty yards straight through the trees ahead of us you’ll find it. It will take you all the way back to civilization.”
“I hope so. The people up here are too uncivilized for me. Well, except for one.” Jennifer glanced at him.
“And that person is just about to become very uncivilized, too. At least to some spies, terrorists, or whoever these goons really are. When you reach the first house don’t stop unless there aren’t any other houses nearby. Go on to the second or third house before you knock on any doors. When you call the police remember to tell them the cars are on Holten Creek Road.”
Jennifer squinted and frowned, forming what Lee now recognized as her curious face. “Why the second, or third house?”
“There are a few survivalist types around here. Usually they prefer the end of the road—the highest house on the mountain. After escaping the goons we can’t have some American citizen with an overactive imagination shooting at you, can we?”
“I’m not big on irony, Lee.”
“Neither am I.” He paused. “Are you ready to do this?”
“Only if you follow my rules. Don’t take any chances and please come down to me quickly.”
“You got it.”
“You better have it. Because if you misbehave I can really get you in trouble with NSA. It would be Leavenworth for life, buddy. You got it?”
“I do.”
Jennifer smiled briefly, but the smile was cut short by a frown—one he suspected wasn’t going away until they were both safely off the mountain. Another reason his plan must succeed.
“I’m going back to the top now, Jenn. If you stand where you are I’ll be able to see you. When I’m certain the goons aren’t anywhere near the top I’ll signal. Then you move straight ahead to the road and run like the wind. But watch the road surface. We can’t have you twisting an ankle.”
She didn’t reply, but she stepped closer to him.
The pain on her drawn face and in her eyes ripped at his heart.
If he didn’t go now he might not be able to. He pulled his gaze from the beautiful face and the eyes so deep he feared he might drown in them. He looked at the ground. “When you see me on top, wait for my signal. Godspeed, Jenn.”
As Lee turned to climb back to the top two arms encircled his neck, nearly choking him in a fierce hug. Then they were gone.
The range and intensity of emotions he felt as Jennifer left were impossible to describe with words. In the end, only one emotion remained. Deep determination—a determination to see this plan through.
From the top of the spire he surveyed the entire area around the limestone formations. He raised his hand to give Jennifer the signal to go, but noises came from one of the caves located at the base of the rock.
This was good. Not ideal, but nevertheless good. Though the goons weren’t deep inside the rock he knew for certain where they were. From there they could never get to Jennifer if she left now. He gave her the down-the-mountain signal and she disappeared into the trees.
Before launching the second part of the plan—the part he hadn’t completely disclosed to her, Lee wanted to see her running far down the road. He needed to be certain she was out of danger.
He stood at the vantage point and waited. In less than a minute she appeared nearly two hundred yards down the road and in a few more seconds she rounded the switchback. When she started down the steep slope Jennifer ran like she was coasting, using gravity to propel her. And she ran like the wind.
“Smart woman,” He whispered, smiling at his understatement.
Lee looked upward into the blue sky. “Jenn’s away safely. Thank You.” He turned his attention to the work at hand. Building a goon trap.
14
Jennifer maneuvered carefully through the trees avoiding twigs that might snap and other noisy blunders. When she stepped between two small trees and pushed aside some branches the road lay at her feet.
The road would lead her down the mountain for help, but her heart pulled her in the opposite direction, back to help Lee. But going back might endanger him so she would keep her promise.
“Please, God, protect him,” she whispered as she stepped onto the old logging road.
This is becoming a habit.
Was her new habit born of desperation or a growing faith? Unsure of the answer she deferred the question until later.
Jennifer started jogging slowly, letting her leg muscles warm up. Soon she had stretched out the kinks from the hours spent hiding in the cave. Her muscles warmed and relaxed. But not her mind. It couldn’t stop worrying about Lee.
I know he’s intelligent and he knows these mountains, but please keep him safe.
Another prayer. Desperation or faith? The question remained. So would her spontaneous prayers…at least for now.
After Jennifer passed the saddle between two peaks she reached the switchback where the road turned to the right and then plunged downward in a steep descent to the valley floor. Gravity wanted to take over now, and she gave in to its force, for speed and to conserve energy. As she accelerated Jennifer used her leg strength to hold back so she wouldn’t lose control of her body.
The road steepened and she felt like she was flying down the mountain. The feeling was so exhilarating she couldn’t resist letting gravity have its way. She had never gotten into running. But if it could give her this sensation she vowed to begin running every day.
She flew down the mountain for another two-hundred yards. Over the treetops a whole residential development appeared. Those houses were a considerable distance from the mountain.
Another hundred yards down the road, she passed the upper end of a mountainside meadow. The new spring grass was a brilliant green and the early wildflowers sprinkled it with yellow and lavender. At the base of the meadow lay house number one.
The long wait to call for help—the wait filled with one frustration after another—was nearly over.
Jennifer felt an urge to run straight to the door of the house. As her gaze swept the property it settled on the driveway. A large iron gate blocked access to the house. She looked on both sides of the gate. The owner had fenced the entire property.
A survivalist?
She’d heard of those who so distrusted the government and nearly everyone else that they fortified themselves in their houses. She saw some of their websites filled with conspiracy theories. Theories such as 9-11 being an “inside job.” Her time with NSA provided access to facts proving the foolishness of such thought.
She had analyzed some of the 9-11 terrorists’ communications, gleaning intelligence NSA could not obtain until after the attack. What she learned about the evil behind the attacks motivated her to undertake her current work developing tools to thwart terrorist plots.
Another two hundred yards would take her to house number two, which sat close beside houses number three and four. Beyond those houses there were many more. These were the homes of people who did not shrink from community. She made her choice—house number two as Lee recommended.
Thoughts of myriad different possibilities ran through her mind as she ran to the front door. But Lee said he “prayed hard” and she saw enough in the last twenty-four hours to believe God answered. The God she doubted for the past two years—the years since her father died.
She pushed the doorbell button.
Please, let the right person answer
.
A peace swept over her. She was meant to be standing in front of this house at this very time. Somehow, she was certain.
The door opened a crack at first, then all the way. A graying, middle-aged lady cocked her head and frowned. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Ma’am, my name is Jennifer Akihara and my friend is in trouble on the mountain.” Jennifer gestured towards the peak she hoped Lee would run down in a few minutes.
The woman cocked her head to the other side. She studied Jennifer for a couple of seconds. “I know you. You’re the young lady who is missing—I guess I should say was missing. Come in. Come in. My name is Marie Benson and you probably want to use the phone.”
Puzzled by being recognized so quickly, Jennifer hesitated before entering. After the car bombing, the shooting, and two people missing, her picture and Lee’s were probably in the Saturday paper and shown on TV. Good. That meant the police and the FBI were searching for them.
“Miss, are you coming in?”
I’ve got to get focused.
“Yes, ma’am. I need to talk to the police. My friend could be killed and we might possibly be in danger here.”
“My goodness, here’s the phone. Call. Oh yes, you’ll need to tell them our address. It’s 4504 West Marie Street.”
Jennifer stepped to the phone and dialed. The 911 operator came on the line and immediately recognized her name.
After the operator obtained the preliminary information things began to move quickly. “The Kerbyville police are on the way. They should be at the Benson’s house in three or four minutes.”
She sighed. “Good. Please tell them the people who chased us have automatic weapons—more than one—maybe two or three. Also tell them Lee Brandt is still on the mountain trying to elude the gunmen and then join me down here.”
“Thank you. I’ll pass your information to Officer Robbins.” After a short pause, the operator was back. “Is there anything else the police should know?”
“Yes. As far as I know, the gunmen are still on the mountain. They may be held up there for a while if Lee’s plan is successful. But my car, a white, older sedan, is about a mile or two up Holten Creek Road below the limestone spire. The gunmen’s car is a black SUV. It will be parked nearby if they’re still on the mountain.”
“Thanks again. I will pass the information to them in just a moment. You should be hearing sirens, now.”
“Yes, I hear them.”
“Good. Now I want to alert you to what will likely happen next—it could get a little crazy where you are. First, the local police will arrive. But we think the media might arrive about the same time. Your story is a hot news item. If a media circus starts, avoid them and talk only to the police. And I’ve been told that soon some folks other than the police will be there to talk with you. I thought you should know.”
Jennifer could guess who “some people” would be, some members of the JTTF and, not long after, an NSA agent.
“Officer Robbins is out front, now. Good luck. We’re glad you’re safe and thanks for the information you provided.”
Jennifer hung up and hurried to the door with Mrs. Benson trailing behind her. She pulled the door open and looked up into the kindly face of the biggest policeman she’d ever seen.
“Ms. Akihara, I’m Officer Robbins. Let’s sit down and you can give me the information you have and I’ll call it in. Then I’ll tell you what I know and we can proceed from there.”
Maybe this was the end of this dreadful drama. Perhaps it was the beginning of a much better one, provided Lee made it safely down the mountain.
Please, God, help him.
15
Retribution. It was the word of the hour.
Lee anticipated it like a forehand kill shot on a racquetball court. He hadn’t lied when he said his plan wasn’t about sacrificing himself so she could get away. However, if the goons came over the ridge line in the next couple of minutes he would draw attention to himself and away from Jennifer, gladly taking any associated risks.
He waited for two minutes. No goons. He would now draw their attention to something else, something of his choosing.
Over the backside of the ridgeline from the goons Lee ran to reach another limestone outcropping three hundred yards to the southeast. There, a large cave ran the full length of the big rock, a distance of nearly one hundred yards. Halfway in a dogleg hid the far end of the cave from anyone who entered.
Upon entering this cave it took several seconds for the human eye to adjust. Initially, only the largest features of the cave were visible. That’s what he needed to pull off this part of his plan—the initial inability to see the details. In this cave, at this particular time, the devil really was in the details. The thought brought a smile to his face as he ran.
Nineteen years ago Lee and his buddy became intimately, and most unpleasantly, acquainted with a phenomenon occurring in the cave in mid-March after a cold winter.
Last winter was cold and snowy, typical of La Nina winters in the Pacific Northwest. What he needed to know today was whether the timing was right for the effects he counted on. Bad timing would convert the trap to nothing more than a short detour. If that happened he could end up in a desperate run for his life.
He loped through the fir trees and scrubby oaks growing on the south side of the ridge. After a couple of minutes he approached the east end of the long cave. When he reached the top of a small rise he walked cautiously towards the cave’s mouth. It wouldn’t do to walk in on a mama black bear with cubs. Being killed by a bear instead of an assault rifle would be worse than ironic.
He slipped to the right side of the cave’s east entrance and rolled up his left shirt sleeve. He wouldn’t expose his injured right arm to the abuse he anticipated. He hugged the rock forming the face of the cave, gritted his teeth and plunged his bare arm into the darkness. After waiting a full second he pulled his arm out and backpedaled rapidly away from the opening.
He brushed his hand and arm furiously to remove every trace of the blackness covering them. A wide grin spread across his face. The timing was perfect.
The winter weather had been miserable, but as Lee set his snare for the goons, he thanked God for every cold, snowy day. Treading lightly he backtracked towards the spire, staying two hundred yards off to the side of the trail. He didn’t want to leave any tracks pointing back to the limestone spire so he kept to the rocks as much as possible.
Near the spire he stopped and listened for the goons. No sounds. Nothing.
Running so as to leave behind fresh tracks and broken earth, he returned to the cave. He looked back towards the spire. His tracks left a clear trail. Satisfied with his work he returned to the pinnacle of the spire once again using the rocks to the side of the trail to hide his tracks.
Two dicey parts to his scheme remained. The first required getting the goons attention without giving them a clear shot at him. He hadn’t disclosed this part to Jennifer. She would have said—he didn’t even want to think about the threats she would have made.
The second part, the diciest one, required luring the goons to the trail of tracks so they would follow it one-quarter mile to the other cave. While the goons followed his trail he must remain far ahead of them and out of sight or—he didn’t want to think about that consequence, either.
He moved to a boulder on the west edge of the spire and studied the slope below him for a few moments. Below his position slide areas lay scattered around the limestone formation. An abundance of limestone chunks lay on the steep slope and each chunk possessed enough potential energy to participate in his scheme. The rocks needed a little shove, a kick, or perhaps another rock tossed onto them to release their kinetic state.
When two of the goons emerged from the large cave at the base of the rock nearly three-hundred feet below him he stepped from behind the boulder.
They were engaged in an animated hand-waving conversation and they didn’t look up towards him. He selected a softball-sized rock and moved
out onto the shoulder of the spire. The spot featured a fairly easy, though very long, climb up from the base. It was the shortest path to his location. The goons would take it.
Lee stepped from behind the shoulder of the rock and tossed his chunk of limestone onto a small slide area below him. He turned around to make it appear he was climbing up the rock to escape.
Small at first, the slide soon became an impressive avalanche. Maybe they would think he was trying to take them out with a rock slide. That a weaponless man would even attempt to take them out might enrage them. Anger would fuel their desire to follow him while blunting their suspicion.
Lee turned his head and glanced down towards the goons. The avalanche missed them by a few yards, but their gaze followed the slide up to its origin. Two sets of eyes were looking directly at him.
He took several steps in the direction he wanted them to follow and then cut behind a boulder. When he topped the ridge his last view of the goons was indelibly stamped on his memory. They had raised their weapons to shoot.
By keeping the ridge between them for the next minute he would remain out of their sight while he ran along the trail of tracks leading to the destination cave—the cave of destiny.
Good name. The cave of destiny.
As he sprinted down the backside of the mountain, Lee put the sequence of events working out behind him in fast forward, playing them like a video in his mind.
The goons would take a minute or more to climb up the steep slope. They would stop for a few seconds to catch their breath and then look in the direction he had gone.
There his tracks began. By then he would have tripled his lead, keeping him far out of sight, out of earshot, and out of shooting range.
