by Gordon Ryan
“FBI! Drop it!” she shouted, her voice now strong and decisive. “I said, drop it!”
In what seemed like slow motion, he continued to shift his aim, attempting to release the safety and prepare his rifle for action, but her shot, as unerring as on her previous encounter in the Wells Fargo Bank, entered Dahlgren’s brain. Their shots were nearly simultaneous, but Nicole’s was the most telling, rendering Woodland’s city manager dead before he hit the ground. His shot, not as controlled, entered Nicole’s chest, and the impact of his.243-caliber deer rifle slammed her backward toward the cabin door. Stunned by the impact of the bullet and fearful of losing consciousness before she could release Dan, Nicole crawled toward his chair.
“In my right jacket pocket, Nicole. I’ve got a knife.”
Nicole reached into his pocket, extracted the knife, and succeeded in cutting the plastic tie that held Dan’s hands and the rope binding his legs to the chair. With his hands and legs free, Dan grabbed Nicole and laid her down on the floor, opening her jacket. He examined the wound, then he stood and quickly stepped to Dahlgren’s body, ferreting through his pockets for a package of plastic ties he’d seen earlier. He bound the hands of the guard Nicole had knocked unconscious. Then he ripped the guard’s shirt with his pocket knife and folded the cloth into a bandage, which he applied as a compress to Nicole’s wound.
Her breathing became labored, much as she had pretended when she had entered the cabin, and she closed her eyes, grimacing against the pain.
“I thought you were going to wait for the cavalry,” Dan mumbled, sick with fear about the severity of the wound, now visible as he opened Nicole’s shirt. She didn’t respond.
He glanced at his watch. It was nearly 4:00 a.m. Still over two hours until daylight, and likely not soon enough to ensure Nicole would get the attention she needed before it was too late. He had to assume that Dahlgren had reached Shaw and that the small party of brigade troopers were on their way back to the cabin. He figured he had fifteen minutes, twenty at best.
Dan smoothed Nicole’s hair away from her face, then as gently as he could, he picked her up and laid her on a torn mattress on top of the small wooden bunk. Returning to Dahlgren’s inert form, Dan retrieved the cellular phone. Pulling his own wallet from his hip pocket, Dan found his on-call list and dialed General Del Valle’s emergency number. The switchboard patched him through.
“Sir, this is Captain Rawlings. I’ve got a difficult situation here, sir, and I-”
“Captain, I’m airborne already with three helicopters and a platoon of troops. We’re passing over the King’s stadium in Natomas at the moment, probably about thirty minutes out from your location. I’ve already been in touch with Colonel Connor, and he filled me in. Just give me your coordinates if you can. What’s your sitrep? Colonel Connor said you have flares and a GPS. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. We’re holed up in a small wooden cabin. One dead brigade member and one tied up and unconscious. I have a seriously wounded FBI agent with me. She’ll need immediate attention. Thirty minutes is-”
“Son, we’ll be there as quickly as we can, and I’ve got medics aboard. I’ll notify the hospital, and they’ll be standing by. Send up your flares and guide us in. Are you in any further danger from other militia troops?”
“Yes, sir. Captain Dahlgren made a phone call to tell them to return. They’ve been gone only about fifteen minutes, so they’ll be back anytime. There are three of them in the returning group.”
“Do you have any weapons?”
“Yes, sir. Two pistols, an M-16 with a couple of clips, and a hunting rifle.”
“That’s plenty. Mount a defense, Captain. We’re coming. We’ll make as much noise as we can as we get closer to scare them off, but you might have to hold the fort for a few minutes.”
“Understood, General. It’s Agent Bentley I’m worried about. She’s badly wounded and drifting in and out of consciousness.”
“Stay calm, Captain, we’re coming. The medics will stabilize her, and we’ll get her to the hospital immediately. Now turn your attention to a plan of defense. You’re well armed, in a defensive posture, and we’re close. Don’t wait until you hear us. In exactly ten minutes, launch your first flare, and every three to five minutes thereafter until you hear the choppers.”
“Yes, sir. Rawlings out.”
Dan checked Nicole again. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was slow, but steady. He removed a mattress from the second bed and placed it over her, both to warm her and to protect her from any incoming rifle fire. He left just her face free to breathe. He slid the bed away from line of sight of the window, then removed the night vision goggles from the neck of the bound trooper and turned out the Coleman lantern, taking a position between the window and the bunk bed.
The cabin grew quiet, the hissing from the Coleman lantern dissipating until the only sound in the room was the shallow breathing of Special Agent Nicole Bentley. However labored, it was a comforting sound.
Watching out the window through the night vision goggles, Dan’s thoughts returned to his final moments with Susan as she had died in his arms on the ski slope. His love for Nicole had grown over the previous months, and he found himself in an identical position. Another woman he loved was in danger, and he was virtually helpless to get the medical attention she needed.
He checked his watch. Only three minutes had passed since he had ended his call with General Del Valle. No sign of activity was evident through the window, and he sat silently, contemplating the impending loss of another woman he loved-a woman who had just saved his life.
After several motionless moments, the greenish hue of ambient light captured through the lens of the night vision goggles played tricks with his mind, but the sudden appearance of two humanoid figures was unmistakable. Dan slid the old-fashioned window upward, the cool night air quickly replacing the warmth of the cabin. He watched as a third, then, to his surprise, a fourth figure made its way slowly down the hillside. He nearly dropped his rifle when the cell phone lying on the floor at his feet began to ring. He picked it up, the flashing blue tinted window identifying Shaw as the caller.
“Well, Commander Shaw. Welcome back. I’m sorry we can’t come out to meet you, but the Guard troops are busy setting up a perimeter around the cabin.”
No answer came immediately. “I don’t think so, Rawlings. If you and the lady want to live, come out with your hands up.”
“Sorry. We’re busy at the moment, playing gin rummy with the Command Sergeant Major and the battalion commander, and haven’t time to play war games. Please tell your troopers that we haven’t room for another hand in this game, so they should stop where they are and not come any closer. You carry on without us.” Dan pressed “end” and dropped the phone to the floor, resuming his observation of the moving silhouettes on the hillside, two of whom were closing slowly toward the cabin. Dan took careful aim and fired a single warning shot, watching as the two advancing figures quickly took cover behind available trees.
A quick fusillade of shots was loosed from the hillside, most hitting the outside walls of the cabin, and one breaking the glass of the upper window. Dan fired once with a more careful aim and caught a glimpse of a green human form rolling over in the brush. Glancing at his watch, he picked up the flare gun and a cartridge Nicole had placed inside her jacket, inserting the cartridge and aiming the flare gun out the window. He closed his eyes beneath the night vision goggles and fired the flare, the arc moving quickly into the night sky and bursting into a bright, slowly descending light.
A second round of shots impacted the cabin, and Dan returned fire, putting several three-round bursts into the area where he had seen the muzzle flashes. He heard the scream of someone hit by his fusillade, and the incoming rounds decreased. The silhouettes of two men moving back up the hillside convinced him that his defensive shots were giving Shaw second thoughts. In three minutes, Dan launched another flare and several moments later, heard the unmistakable sound of heavy-
caliber automatic weapons coming over the cabin, followed shortly thereafter by the sound of helicopter blades. He picked up the cell phone and called General Del Valle’s number again. The general answered immediately.
“We’ve got your flare in sight, Captain. What’s the ground situation?”
“Sir, the LZ is hot, but I think the enemy is withdrawing. No shots for several minutes.”
“Understood.” Two helicopters flew directly over the cabin, and Dan could hear one hovering behind the building, a spotlight suddenly illuminating the open field to the rear of the cabin.
Ten minutes later, and long before daylight, an unconscious Nicole was carried onboard by two medics, who had stabilized her with an IV drip and pressure bandages. Within moments, the helicopter lifted off and was on its way to Woodland Memorial Hospital, twenty minutes away. Del Valle offered Dan the opportunity to accompany Nicole. His hesitation puzzled the general, but Dan explained the necessity of retrieving the computer disks, which had been the primary purpose for their evening’s excursion and for which, Dan knew, Nicole would have maintained priority.
The other two helicopters sat down in quick succession, and a well-armed squad of State Military Reserve troops occupied the cabin and surrounding hillside, joined at first light by the remainder of Company B, 324th Mechanized Battalion-Colonel Jack Harman’s outfit. As dawn broke, no additional Shasta Brigade troopers were present in the area. On the surrounding hillside, they discovered one dead Shasta Brigade trooper and one wounded man, lying silently beneath a tree, who raised his hands as the SMR troops approached.
Slightly more than an hour later, Dan sat in a waiting area near the operating room at Sacramento General Hospital, where Nicole had been redirected. The decision to extend the flight the extra fifteen minutes to Sacramento was made during the flight on the advice of the surgeon who was available to perform immediate thoracic surgery. During the long wait, while Nicole was in surgery, Dan reflected on the violent events of the previous night.
When Nicole was hurled through the door into the Scout hut, his heart had come up into his throat. At that moment, he didn’t know if she had been abused by the guard or if she was injured. Sitting helplessly bound to the chair, he had been astonished by her strength and agility as she disabled one guard and then, in a thoroughly professional way, responded so decisively in firing her weapon and killing Dahlgren.
The ghastly wound she had sustained sickened him, and while waiting for the helicopters to arrive, he had watched her face, alarmed by how pale she was becoming. He had agonized over her, imagining the pain and trauma she was enduring. Throughout the agonizingly long minutes they had waited for General Del Valle, she was unable to speak, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Nicole was truly a remarkable woman. Over and over again, she continued to amaze him. He wondered if he could have performed as she had, and readily admitted to himself that she had excellent instincts in tough situations. As he sat on the pale green vinyl couch in the waiting area of Sacramento General Hospital, he shook his head and smiled at the thought. She’d proven that on at least two occasions.
The experience they had been through had not only intensified his admiration, but had also served to compound the tender feelings he had for her. In the quiet of the hospital corridor, Dan once again began to fear that he was in danger of losing the second woman he had ever loved. As he sat waiting for her to come out of surgery, he prayed that she would survive, that they might have a life together-that he might have the chance to tell her that he wanted them to have a life together.
It was six hours later and approaching noon before the surgeon walked the long corridor to tell Dan that Nicole was out of immediate danger, but that she would be unconscious for some time yet, and they would have to wait and see regarding the complications that frequently accompanied such wounds.
The computer disks had been retrieved and, following a telephone call to Colonel Connor, had been entrusted to General Del Valle. Now, sitting by Nicole’s bedside, Dan rested his head on the bed and was in a twilight sleep when a nurse came in to inform him of a phone call. He walked to the nurse’s station in the center of the corridor.
“This is Dan Rawlings.”
“Dan, it’s Pug Connor. How’s she doing?”
“Out of surgery, Colonel, but still unconscious. The doctor thinks she’s going to be all right, but it’s really too early to tell. The bullet punctured her lung.”
“Dan, I know it’s asking a lot, and that you’d like to stay with Nicole, but I’m obliged to ask you to leave her side. I’ve laid on a military fighter at McClellan, which will have you here in a little over three hours. General Del Valle has sent the data from the disks via modem, and preliminary review suggests a wide-ranging election conspiracy. We need to review that information before our appointment in the morning.”
“Appointment, Colonel?”
“That’s right, Dan. I’ve relayed the preliminary information to President Eastman and Vice President Prescott. The president would like to speak to both of us as soon as possible.”
“Colonel, what can I possibly add to your presentation?”
“The president is a forceful man, as I’ve discovered over the years. He likes to deal directly with those involved.”
“I’m a mess,” Dan said, looking down at his muddy trousers and boots. “What time is the flight?”
“As soon as you can get there. Why don’t you go home, shower, and change clothes, and I’ll have a car waiting for you at your apartment.”
Dan was silent for a moment, and Connor picked up on his reluctance.
“I understand if you don’t want to come, Dan, and I really can’t order you, but it is important-and you’d have a chance to tell the president about Nicole’s participation. Nicole will be guarded ’round the clock-police, FBI, and National Guard security. We have General Del Valle’s word on it.”
Dan paused for several long seconds. “I’ll call you and confirm departure before we go airborne, Colonel.”
“Good. See you in a few hours, Dan.”
Returning to Nicole’s room, Dan took her hand. Her nose and mouth were enclosed in a clear plastic oxygen mask. She was sleeping soundly, her breathing shallow but steady. The color was beginning to return to her face as the blood transfusion began to take effect. He thought briefly of Jack, and for a moment, decided not to leave until she had regained consciousness. But then he smiled. “You’d go, wouldn’t you?” he whispered to her unconscious form. He raised her hand and kissed it, then gently placed it back on the bed and exited the room, taking one last glance through the glass wall of the ICU as he passed down the hall.
“She’ll be fine, sir, and we’ll take extra good care of her,” the nurse behind the counter said.
A weary smile crept over Dan’s face as he put on his jacket.
“Thank you, ma’am. She’s earned it.”
Chapter 34
Mexico City, Mexico
As Dan crossed America in his first F-16 flight, clad in helmet and flying gear, another military ceremony was about to take place, twenty-one miles outside Mexico City. At the same time Dan’s plane was landing at Andrew’s AFB, near Washington D.C., a retirement ceremony for Mexican General Augustus Fernandez, a contemporary of General Rodrigo Cordoba and General Emiliano Valdez, was bringing to a conclusion his thirty-two years of service to his country. Cordoba had been pleased several days earlier when Valdez called to suggest both of them attend the ceremony in honor of their mutual friend.
The reviewing stand was partially filled with dignitaries and politicians who always seemed to find time to be in attendance at such ceremonies, presenting themselves as concerned with and dedicated to the support of the military.
Where were they at budget time? Valdez often wondered.
Since being appointed chief of staff of the Mexican army six months earlier and upon the retirement of his predecessor, Valdez had quickly consolidated his power base. Through an intricately placed ne
twork of spies and an extensive political dossier maintained on high-ranking officials, many of whom were provided by John Henry Franklin’s computerized credit and financial reporting systems, Valdez presented a formidable opponent for politicians who chose to oppose his intended policies.
In a gesture of civility, Valdez had arranged for refreshments to be served to the guests in the stands prior to the actual ceremony, and several white-coated waiters circulated, taking orders and serving drinks. Valdez’s personal honor guard-six highly trained and dedicated enlisted men-stood quietly in two groups of three, off to either side of the reviewing stand, ready to respond to any incident that might portend disruption of the day’s proceedings.
General Valdez had yet to arrive, but was due momentarily with the guest of honor, General Fernandez. As the staff car carrying Valdez and Fernandez approached the stand, the driver received instructions to give way to another approaching staff car, which pulled up to one side of the reviewing stand. The driver exited and opened the rear passenger-side door to allow General Rodrigo Cordoba, resplendent in his military uniform, to exit. Then, Valdez’s staff car moved slowly past Cordoba’s, stopping directly in front of the stand where both officers exited in a flurry of assistance from those standing nearby and to applause from those in the stands who recognized Fernandez.
Carlos Domingo, a young, dark-skinned man of mixed Aztec and Spanish heritage, was dressed in a white waiter’s uniform and had been assigned to the front left section of the stand. He stiffened slightly at the site of Cordoba as the general got out of his vehicle, placed his hat on his head, and took several steps toward Valdez and their old friend, Fernandez, whom he hadn’t seen in over a year.
