Collapsing World_Stolen Treasure_Book 3

by G. Allen Mercer

  He studied her for a long few seconds, and then looked over to the rope around the girl’s arms.

  Penny felt the bottom of her stomach clench. “What? It’s tight! She’s not going anywhere! Pull it yourself if you don’t believe me,” she gambled.

  "Shove this in her mouth," Weed said in heavily accented English. He pulled a sweaty bandanna from around his neck and tossed it to her.

  "That's disgusting! No!" She threw it back at him. He drew his rifle at her, and she stood up to him, putting her chest to the barrel. They locked eyes. "Do it and they will be on you before you get the barn doors open." It was another chess move. She admitted that it was brash and possibly very stupid. Sometimes in chess, you have to bluff; this was a freaking big stare-down bluff.

  Dick said something in Mandarin, and Weed relented, pulling the rifle back from Penny's chest.

  "Get in," Dick ordered Penny. "You sit up front and guide me." He pushed the tip of his rifle towards her, to emphasize the command.

  "Fine," she waved, riding the success of the bluff, and not feeling like taking shit from these assholes. My country, my house, you killed my boyfriend, she thought to herself. My dad is going to kill you. She caught the eye of Jack through the open back door of the Humvee, he seemed about as pissed off as she was; his head was bobbing up and down like he was listening to a rap song. Lucy was a pale statue, and only stared forward.

  Weed found some bolt cutters hanging on the wall with dozens of other rusty tools, and cut the chain that locked the barn doors on the backside of the structure. He then pushed the doors open, exposing filtered summer sunlight from the tree line.

  Satisfied that the area was clear, Weed climbed in the back with Jack and Lucy as Penny took her seat in the front. She wiggled in the large leather seat so that the radio she had hidden under her shirt would be accessible. On her sprint back to the barn she made sure the radio was on, it was on channel 9 and the volume was turned down. All she had to do was activate it every so often.

  Dick looked over at Penny and she stopped squirming. Seemingly happy with himself for angling the children and commandeering the vehicle, he inserted the special key and started the engine. With little fanfare, he took the Presidential ride, and the three hostages, and drove out of the back of the barn. In his mind, this was the stolen treasure that would save his life.

  CHAPTER 9

  Clark closed the door behind them, leaving the Chinese soldier alone after the interrogation.

  "How did it go?" Cooper asked. He checked the doorknob to make sure that the door to the impromptu interrogation room was actually shut.

  "I think he told us all that he knows, and that was really nothing more than we already knew, or suspected," Colonel Horn remarked, following Dukes over to a small wet bar.

  Dukes poured four drinks, handing the glasses to each of the men. "So, what's next, Sir?"

  Horn downed his two-fingers of whiskey and put his glass back on the mini-bar. "I'm going to take him with me. We'll get him up to D.C., and they'll question him further."

  Clark had yet to speak, he had been silent throughout the entire interrogation, embracing his role as punisher. He had a problem with the role, but did his best to contain the emotions; sometimes, he was a good soldier. He looked at Dukes, who looked at him. "What do you make of him talking about staging troops in Birmingham?"

  Dukes opened his mouth, but Horn cut his off.

  "It makes sense," Horn poured himself another drink. "I'd do the same thing if I were moving massive numbers of troops up from the Gulf. Montgomery is too close, and could easily be attacked from left over troops from any of a half dozen bases in the area. But," the Colonel downed his second drink. "If they think they’re just going to camp out in Birmingham and stage their logistics for their occupation from there, they have another thing coming."

  Two of the three men nodded, not knowing exactly what he was talking about; Clark did.

  "I have the Georgia Guard already massed at Carrolton, GA and that’s going to get supplemented by the troops out of Savannah,” Colonel Horn continued. “From Carrolton, we’re less than a hundred miles to Birmingham. At that point, we’ll crush them." It was presented as a fact, not speculation. "And speaking of that, I need to get back to Command, and also get this son-of-a-bitch bagged and tagged for D.C. Specialist, call in my bird," Horn ordered.

  "Yes, Sir," Clark said, moving towards the stairs. Horn had deployed his helicopter and the small squad attached to it, to investigate activity sighted by the scout Apaches.

  Clark opened the door to the bunker and was happy to see the worried face of Emma nearby. He forced a smile; he wasn't ready to smile. She moved to intercept him, but stopped. Clark took notice of the movement, but instead of going to her, he went straight for the radio to call in the colonel's Blackhawk.

  June waited for him to finish before speaking. "Will you please tell Dukes to bring up another handheld radio when he comes up?" She asked the soldier. He nodded and then stopped before going back down the stairs.

  "Ah," he cleared his voice. "We're going to be bringing him, the prisoner that is, back through here once the Colonel's chopper arrives. No one should talk while we do." He paused and looked at Emma. "I just wanted you to know, so that you can prepare," he said, closing the door behind him.

  Emma watched the door for a few extra seconds, thinking that Clark might reappear. Her hand was over her mouth the entire time. It distressed her greatly to see how shook up Clark was after the interrogation.

  Twenty minutes later the thumping sounds of the Blackhawk reverberated throughout the structure of the cabin. June grabbed the loaded pistol off of the kitchen counter and stepped out onto the front porch to confirm that it was indeed the Colonel's bird. Satisfied, she stepped back in and opened the basement door to let them know.

  "Dukes, the helicopter has arrived," she simply said, and waited for a response.

  Clark reappeared at the bottom of the stairs and ran up the stairs, past June. He exited the house and met up with the squad leader, a Sergeant Shaw.

  "What's the situation?" Shaw asked. Both men stopped to talk on the front porch.

  "The prisoner will require medical attention when you return. He’s bound by two industrial zip ties and his legs are free. We have him blindfolded, but not gaged. I will bring him up to the front porch, and he’s your man from there."

  "Got it," Shaw said, motioning at two of his soldiers. "You two take point on the prisoner. I want this to go by the books. Tell the Chief that we need the bird ready to lift off the instant the Colonel puts his boots onboard.”

  Both soldiers gave acknowledgements with, ‘roger, that.'

  "How's the Old Man? Anything we need to know?" Shaw asked Clark before he went back in to retrieve the Chinese soldier.

  "Ah, he’s angry and stressed, just like most of us," Clark answered, before turning to leave.

  "Wait." Shaw was a Staff Sergeant, and outranked Clark’s Specialist ranking by two stripes. Clark was having a hard time dropping back into line after everything that he had been through on his own. Clark stopped, and slowly pivoted back to the NCO. “Did he say anything? The Chinese soldier, I mean."

  Clark thought of a thousand reasons not to tell the fellow soldier. What Clark had learned was somehow personal. By his torturing of the other man, he had left a small piece of himself behind. It was almost as if he had paid with a bit of his soul. "Yeah, he did."

  "Well?"

  "He said that they know about our troop movement up from Savannah, and that they know about our plans to attack them in Birmingham."

  "Holy, shit! How? How could he know that?"

  Clark turned his back on Sergeant Shaw and dropped his head a little before going back inside. "Because they heard every word said between me and the Pentagon while we were escaping from Atlanta and running recon." He left it at that and closed the front door behind him.

  CHAPTER 10

  First Airman Nina Perez had yet to say a word. Lieutenan
t Brad Shepard sat across from her, neither one touched their paper cups full of fresh coffee. They had just finished listening to Colonel Horn’s interrogation of Wa Ming over short wave radio.

  "You can't take this personally,” Shepard offered. He swirled his coffee, letting the heat of the liquid try to melt his fingerprints through the paper. “They hacked our communications either from Clark’s Humvee, or from somewhere here in the Pentagon. It’s that simple.”

  "I... I don't know how you can say that,” Perez said, still processing everything in her head. “Our communications were tight and by the books.” She paused, looking up at him. "Sir."

  "I don't know? We're all tired. You had to miss something in the protocol," Shepard said, his voice cool.

  Perez noticed for the first time in a while, that he had used the word, 'you', instead of, 'we.' She breathed in to formulate a response, and then held back; choosing to think about it a little more.

  "What?" He asked, his tone a degree more intense than the previous second.

  "Okay," she stalled. A warning light blinked in her brain. What dangers it warned her of, she was still not sure. She proceeded, mindful that, regardless of their personal relationship, he was still an officer, and she was not. "I can admit that I might have missed something on the protocol while communicating with Clark and the others. I..."

  He cut her off. "The Chinese know about our troop movement from Savannah, Nina! They know about our plans to attack them in Birmingham. The link to the hummer was the only open communications that had the potential to have a hole in it." His tone went up to a new level; one of accusation. This was a side of Lieutenant Brad Shepard that she had never seen.

  Perez shook her head; she was one of the most careful analysts working at the Joint Chief level. She had earned that position because of her repeatability of process, her keenness for doing a job correctly, and her tenacity to achieve. She was also a very sharp analyst, so, this potential mistake grated on her deeply. But, what also bothered her was how Shepard was throwing her under the bus.

  "What are your going to say to the Admiral?" Shepard asked.

  "I, I am going to tell him that I was following my protocols, and..."

  "And that you don't know what happened?" Shepard supposed for her, nodding his head and running his hand over his head. "And then I'm called in to see him and all I have as your superior officer is that, I don't know? I'm sorry, that won't fly with the Old Man. He'll have our heads."

  "Well, it's not like we are under any pressure here!" She snapped. "We were just friggin’ invaded, for God's sake! And we,” she motioned between both of them. “Haven’t rotated out in over a week. So, maybe one of us made a mistake,” she said, sliding back from the table. She just wanted to make sure that he understood the ‘we’ part of where she was coming from.

  "Where are you going?" He stood up, too. For half a second he almost ordered her to sit back down, but instead, swallowed the command.

  "I'm going to go over the logs, there has to be something that I missed. I'm not ready to accept that I helped tell the Chinese what our battle plans are for the next two weeks!" She took a step, and then stopped. She pulled her body straight, coming to near attention. "That is, unless you are ordering me not to, Sir." It really didn't come out as a question so much as a statement. Her eyes fixed on the wall behind Shepard.

  Shepard opened his mouth to say something, and then shook his head. "Sir," Perez said. She then pivoted as if on a parade ground, and walked off with the idea that the Chinese had found a way behind the firewall of the Humvee’s communications. Now, she just needed to prove it, so it wouldn’t happen again.

  ***

  Clark took his hand off of the elbow of his prisoner and shoved him lightly towards Sergeant Shaw. Colonel Horn watched the exchanged and then exhaled deeply before turning back to the men.

  "Thank you," Horn said, extending his hand to Dukes. "You are a true patriot."

  Dukes took the Colonel's hand. "You're welcome, Sir."

  Horn also shook Cooper's hand and knew better than to pet the head of the dog. "Secure him in the chopper," he ordered Shaw. He let Shaw and his men get several yards ahead, and then turned to Clark. "Walk with me," he ordered.

  "Yes, Sir," Clark answered and fell in line, as they both started walking towards the helicopter. He knew better than to open his mouth, the Colonel had something to say, and he would say it in his own time.

  "Specialist," Horn started, he was out of earshot of everyone else, except Clark. "I've served with men like you my entire life. Every one of the men I knew that was like you had a nasty streak of individuality."

  Clark didn't know exactly what to say, so he said nothing.

  "But there’s something about you that sets you apart from the others," he stopped walking, and turned to face Clark. "You are creative, resourceful, and from what I can tell exceeding crafty."

  "Thank, thank you, Sir." Clark didn't really know how to react.

  "When those bastards attacked, we lost a lot of really good men and women. Listen, I read your file. You were top of your class at UNC Wilmington, and could have taken a position in the civilian world, but you chose to enlist. You didn't even apply for OCS. Why?"

  "Sir, I enlisted because I needed some time to figure myself out."

  Horn accepted that answer, nodding. "I admire that."

  "Thank you, Sir."

  "It's soldiers like you that are going to help us win this damn war, and get our home back.”

  "I hope so, Sir."

  Horn looked over at his bird, the blades were spinning, and they were only waiting on him. Two of the soldiers were standing about thirty yards away, wary of anything that might hurt their VIP. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out something that he held out to Clark. "I am giving you a field commission to Second Lieutenant, with all the rights and privileges." In his hand were two lieutenant patches for the front of Clark’s ACUs. After reading Clark's file, he had a feeling that Clark would be the type man that he turned out to be. The way he handled the interrogation sealed the deal. Horn had acted on a hunch, and planned accordingly.

  Clark pulled to complete attention; a wave of bumps spread across his skin. "Thank you, Sir." He pulled off a crisp salute that Horn returned.

  Horn placed the patches in the newly minted officer's hand. "At ease."

  Clark moved to parade rest, and Horn issued his next set of orders.

  "Grab your gear, I need you to come with me back to HQ. What I am lacking is an intelligence officer." He held up his hand, as if Clark were about to protest. He wasn't. "I understand about your promise to those kids, but, you did an admirable job in getting them this far, and this might be where this mission ends. Grab your gear, I need to get back A-Sap." Horn's eyes drifted away from looking at Clark, to over his shoulder.

  At that moment, commotion broke on the front porch.

  "Clark!" Dukes yelled, while running towards them. June, Cooper and Margaret were hot on his heels. Dukes, had his pistol drawn and Cooper ran with the shotgun at the ready.

  The two soldiers standing between the chopper and the Colonel Horn went instantly into defensive action, both running towards Horn.

  "What is it?" Clark yelled as they approached. He reached for his own side arm.

  "The...the kids!" Dukes tried to talk as he ran past Dukes and Horn. “Harper's hurt, they took them. They took the kids!"

  "Sir?" Clark asked, as if it were okay for him to join.

  "Go!" Horn ordered, and then directed his men to follow. He too, drew his side arm and followed.

  Cooper and Clark outpaced the others and made it to the burned barn first, where they both pulled up next to the opening. Clark held his hand out to stop June and Margaret several feet back. He then waived the two soldiers around to opposite sides of the barn. Dukes entered through the burned section of his barn.

  Clark leaned his head towards the opening, trying to analyze the muffled sound coming from inside. It was the same noise that th
ey heard the night they found Harper in the abandoned warehouse. It was the sound of whimpering.

  Clark didn't need any more evidence, he rounded the corner; his pistol leading the way. Cooper was on his heels, and went the opposite direction past the opening. Three things we're immediately evident. Harper was on the ground, and partially tied up, there was radio was near her head. Cam, the dog, was dead, and the Humvee was missing.

  "Clear," Clark called. Cooper raced past him to get to his daughter. "Clear!" Dukes' voice floated from the front of the barn.

  Two more calls of, "Clear," sounded from the two other professional soldiers. June and Margaret were the next to breach the opening, with Margaret racing to her daughter.

  "Where? Where? Where are they," June asked, as she turned around, as if they kids had hidden the Humvee behind a post.

  Margaret held her baby as Cooper cut the ropes. Colonel Horn was the next to darken the opening, his pistol still drawn. He looked over the scene.

  Dead dog. Bound girl. A large rectangle spot on the floor, where the Presidential Humvee had deflected the heat front the structure fire.

  "They're gone?" Horn asked his newly minted officer.

  "Yes, Sir. They're gone, and from the look of things, I’d say that they were taken.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Tasha rummaged through the front of the Bronco looking for the radio. Every few seconds she looked over her shoulder at David; he was still holding the lifeless body of his friend.

  “Damn it!” she cursed. Her hands were shaking and she was still fighting the urge to cry. In the distance she could hear the three helicopters, the thumping of their blades reverberating off of the surrounding hills.